


where the lightning strikes

by AlwaysRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Background Relationships, Bad Parenting, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel has Anxiety, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, John Winchester Tries, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Anna Milton/Dean Winchester, Pining Dean, Slow Burn, Summer Vacation, implied/referenced panic attack, summer before college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysRain/pseuds/AlwaysRain
Summary: "Well, Ruthie," he murmurs, a bit sadly, "it's you and me against the world. Think we can do it?" Ruth doesn't respond, and Castiel can see his cousins come spilling out of the house to unload the car. He groans. "Me neither."-----Castiel is forced to spend his last summer before college at his aunt's ranch in Kansas. All he wants to do is survive three months and go back to California; things don't quite go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is my (alwaysraineh on tumblr) second time writing for the DCBB (last year's fic is in my works) and I had a blast with it! I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it <3  
> The art was done by the amazing Rachael (sans--seraph on tumblr and sans---seraph on dA) and it's absolutely wonderful! Please give her the highest of praises for me!  
> Story was beta read by the Grand Champion (like the duck) Jaime (tennisxiu on tumblr) so many many thanks to her as well! (please be kind to her.)
> 
> Side note: you will quickly learn that my absolute favorite character to write was Ruthie, so please love her as much as I do
> 
> Side side note: all hits, kudos, and bookmarks are greatly appreciated but comments literally make my whole week! I may not respond right away (or at all, if I get busy and forget) but I promise I read every single comment and love them all!
> 
> Anyhow, I'll let you get into the story now. Enjoy!!!

The irregular, dragging squeak of rubber on glass cuts through the light pitter-patter of raindrops spattering against the car. The quiet song on the radio crackles as a gust of wind threatens to push the small car off the muddy road. Rivulets of clay-reddened water run down from the center of the road into the ditch, where the stark green of tiny corn stalks sway in the wind. The sky is full of rolling clouds in various shades of grey. It looks more sad than angry, as if the storm is tears instead of thunderous shouts.

“Don’t, uh… don’t you think it’s a little warm in here?”

The voice draws Castiel out of his thoughts. He turns his gaze away from the window in time to see his uncle reach up and wipe a drop of sweat from under his eye. Chuck’s brow is glistening and the collar of his suit is wet. He looks rather uncomfortable. Good.

“I’ll just turn the heat down a bit, yeah?”

“Don’t,” Castiel says, his voice sharp.

Chuck freezes with his hand halfway to the temperature controls. “Wouldn’t Ruth be alright if it was just a little cooler?”

“No.”

A tiny smirk of satisfaction worms its way onto Castiel’s face as Chuck returns his hand to the steering wheel. For someone who married into the Milton family and has survived thirty years thus far, Charles Shurley has no backbone. Castiel banishes his expression quickly, keeping his eyes impassive behind his sunglasses. It hasn’t been sunny since they left California, but he’s been trying to make this drive as awkward as possible for his uncle, and so far he’s been succeeding. It’s been nearly two days of silence, broken more often by Ruth moving than either Chuck or Castiel speaking.

Castiel runs a finger under Ruth’s chin in a scratching motion. He doesn’t miss the way Chuck’s eyes watch apprehensively in the rearview mirror. He decides he’s glad about that- if Chuck is afraid of Ruth, he won’t disturb her.

Chuck turns the small silver car off the rutted road and onto a smooth, paved drive. Trees seem to spring out of nowhere to line the drive, a trail of elegance interrupting the wide expanse of corn and soy beans. An ornate arch frames the drive, wrought iron proudly bearing the words _Eden’s Creek Ranch_ between delicate stallions. Castiel resists the urge to snort.

The first time he was here for more than a few days, he was six years old, and everything had seemed so absurdly clean compared to its surroundings. Now, as the large house and collection of barns and arenas come into view, Castiel knows nothing has changed. Chuck pulls the car around in front of the house and parks it. For a moment after he climbs out, Castiel is alone in the backseat. He sighs and lifts Ruth from his shoulder so he can wrap her in the towel that’s been warming up on the heated seat beside him.

“Well, Ruthie,” he murmurs, a bit sadly, “it’s you and me against the world. Think we can do it?” Ruth doesn’t respond, and Castiel can see his cousins come spilling out of the house to unload the car. He groans. “Me neither.”

Castiel is just closing his door, holding the towel-clad Ruth with one hand and trying to shield her from the rain with the other, when Chuck reappears to pull the twenty-gallon glass tank from the front seat. Castiel follows his uncle and the line of luggage-laden cousins up the steps of the front porch and into the house. The screen door slams behind him and he just barely keeps himself from wincing at the noise.

The entryway of the house is as uninviting as ever, all dark wood and plush rugs and embellished coat racks. It seems colder with piles of Castiel’s luggage stacked at the base of the staircase. Apparently his cousins’ generosity wore out at the threshold. Chuck hands the glass tank to Gabriel, who has to drop one of Castiel’s suitcases to take hold of it.

“Help your cousin get set up in the guest room,” he says, and casts a furtive glance at Ruth before disappearing down the hall.

Gabriel grunts a reply. He shifts his grip on the tank and turns to go upstairs without saying anything to Castiel. In turn, Castiel hesitates, but quickly moves to follow Gabriel when Michael appears. While Castiel is making a terrarium out of the glass tank, Gabriel makes several trips up and down the stairs to move the suitcases. He flops onto the bed just as Castiel unwraps the towel from around Ruth.

“What is that thing, anyway?”

“What is _she_ ,” Castiel says testily. He carefully lifts Ruth and places her inside the terrarium.

Gabriel rolls his eyes and pushes himself into a sitting position. “Moody, moody. Do long car rides make Cassie cranky?”

Castiel pushes his sunglasses onto the top of his head, leveling his cousin with a venomous glare. “What do you want, Gabriel?”

“To know what that thing is. Also to tell you that you’re indoors and it’s not sunny. You might want to lose the tank top and sunglasses before Naomi sees you.”

“She’s a blue-tongued skink and her name is Ruth.”

Castiel doesn’t verbally acknowledge Gabriel’s second statement, but he does remove his bright red Ray-Bans and lay them gently on the table beside Ruth’s tank. His fingers linger just a little too long before he sucks in a breath and turns to face Gabriel, who is watching him with mild interest.

“What?” he snaps.

Gabriel shrugs. “Just thinking about the last time you came for the entire summer. Weren’t you, like, ten?”

“… Eleven.”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, cause you broke a violin.”

Castiel bites his lip, then shakes his head softly. “I didn’t break it. I tore it apart piece by piece, stuffed it in my mother’s favorite vase, and used the vase to break the stain glass window in my father’s office.”

Gabriel looks suspiciously like he’s trying not to laugh. He pats the bed beside him until Castiel reluctantly sits down. “So what did you do to piss off Aunt Muriel and Uncle Marv this time?”

Castiel can feel his heartbeat pick up. His eyes dart towards the partially open door before he can stop himself. Gabriel purses his lips and nudges Castiel’s shoulder gently. Castiel swallows hard and forces himself to look away from the door.

“Cassie. Come on. Aunt Muriel’s just gonna give Naomi some bullshit story about why you’re here and Naomi’ll dog you about it all summer. You’ve got to have done something drastic to get kicked out right before college. Tell me and I can help you keep it from Naomi.”

“I… I came out.”

Gabriel sits in silence for a moment, then lets out a low whistle. “Muriel would never tell Naomi that. She’d be humiliated. Let’s get you through this summer alive, yeah?”

Castiel shrugs. Gabriel pushes himself off the bed and opens a random suitcase. He rummages until he finds a cardigan, which he shoves at Castiel’s chest. Castiel takes it with a frown after a few moments.

“Put it on,” Gabriel says. “Trust me on this one. Hide that ridiculously expensive shirt and Ruth won’t witness Naomi trying to sleuth her way to a conclusion about you so she can bring you an early death.”

As Castiel tugs his grey cardigan over his blue tank top, Gabriel walks over to Ruth’s tank so he can study her. Castiel buttons the cardigan and smooths it against his stomach. His hands come to rest against the dark fabric of his skinny jeans. He watches as Gabriel leans in closer to the glass only to jump back when Ruth flicks her blue tongue at him.

“Why are you helping me, Gabriel?”

“Because I think it’s super stupid that you’re being punished for being a person. Also, I’m still stuck here and I want to talk to someone who doesn’t think I’m a complete failure in life.” Gabriel glances over his shoulder, still hunched in front of the terrarium. “You don’t, right?”

“Don’t what?”

“Think I’m a complete failure. I mean, I know you’re the California cousin and I’m the country hick, but if we ignore that factor in the equation, it would be nice.”

Castiel’s expression is blank but his eyes are confused. “I hardly think this place qualifies you as a hick. It’s… pristine.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Gabriel snorts. “Naomi and Anna are just as ornery about cleaning the house as they are the barns. Reputations as reliable or clean or whatever.”

Before Castiel can reply, the sound of a bell ringing cuts through the house. It stops abruptly a moment later. Gabriel shakes his head and straightens up.

“We never use that thing unless someone’s out in the pasture, but Lucian thinks he’s funny. Come on, it’s dinner.”

Castiel casts an apprehensive look at Ruth. She flicks her tongue, but doesn’t move, so he sighs and resigns himself to trailing after Gabriel. Who, amazingly, is descending the stairs two at a time without tripping. Until the last step, at which point he manages to catch his right foot on his left ankle and stumbles. He lands hard with a loud thud and huffs as his breath is knocked out of him. Castiel hears someone sigh in the next room over, then his aunt’s voice.

“Who fell?”

“Me,” Gabriel grunts in response.

“Is anything broken?”

“My pride.”

Castiel hears Anna snicker and cut in with “Anything important?”

Gabriel shoves hair away from his face as he stands back up. He gives Castiel an exasperated look, but doesn’t say anything as they round the corner into the dining room together. Gabriel is a step ahead of Castiel, but it feels like the entire room freezes in place the moment he steps away and Naomi sees Castiel.

She’s standing beside her husband’s chair, still wearing khaki jodhpurs, shining knee-high black riding boots, and a navy blue dressage blazer. Her brown hair is pulled back in an impossibly tight bun, with elegant streaks of silver near each of her temples. She gives her nephew a pinched smile and gestures to the empty chair beside her.

“Why don’t you sit here, Castiel.”

It isn’t a question. Castiel’s fingers instinctively tighten on the sleeve of his cardigan as he walks over. Naomi taps the back of the chair after he’s sat down and moves gracefully across the room to her own seat at the end of the table. She is four years younger than her sister Muriel, Castiel’s mother, but she somehow manages to have a more commanding presence. Castiel isn’t afraid of her, per se, at least no more than his own mother, but she never ceases to make him nervous.

As Naomi slides into her chair, she extends her left hand to Michael and her right hand to a woman Castiel vaguely recognizes as Michael’s wife Rachel. Michael and Rachel take Naomi’s hands and repeat the action. The line flows around the table- Michael to Lucian to Gabriel to Chuck and Rachel to Anna- until Anna and Chuck are both holding their hands out expectantly to Castiel. Gabriel kicks him under the table and Castiel takes the hands with a wince.

The entire family bows their heads in tandem. Castiel follows suit a bit belatedly. Naomi leads them in a prayer and is echoed with a chorus of ‘amen’s from the family. The release each other’s hands and immediately swarm the table for food. Castiel sits quietly through the entire ordeal, only taking a small serving of pasta salad for himself after everyone else has filled their plates and begun eating.

“So, Castiel,” Naomi says a few moments later, somehow managing to time it so Castiel flinches and has to try hard not to choke on a bite of salad. “Muriel says you’re going to medical school in August.”

Castiel chews slowly, giving his aunt a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Did she? How lovely for her.”

Naomi seems to ignore the blatant sarcasm. She slices neatly through the piece of ham on her plate. “What university was it, again?”

“Stanford. The school of medicine there is one of the highest rated in California.”

“Oh, yes, I have heard quite a bit of praise about Stanford. Certainly not the best school in the country, but I suppose it would be well enough.”

“The campus is supposed to be gorgeous.”

“How lovely. What are you going to be studying? Surely not nursing, I hope.”

Castiel bites hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from making a scathing comment about her view on nursing. “Mother is quite partial to neurosurgery, but Father is pushing for gastroenterology.”

Lucian looks up from his plate suddenly, a wicked smile playing across his lips. “And you, Feathers? You didn’t say what you want.”

“I want you to stop using that awful nickname.”

“It’s only cause you’re my most favoritest cousin, Feathers.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So what is it? What do you want to study? You never said.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well? Gastroenterologist or neurosurgeon?”

Castiel holds back a sigh, knowing that Lucian is just trying to create tension. This family feeds off negative emotion like vampires. “Neither.” Naomi raises an eyebrow, which Castiel smoothly ignores. “I figure that if my school and major have been pre-selected for me, I can do with them what I choose. I’ve decided to specialize in pediatric oncology.”

In the heavy silence that follows, Rachel quietly asks Anna to pass her the pitcher of water. Lucian smirks, having gotten what he wanted, and returns to his meal. Naomi simply makes a dissatisfied noise and turns to speak with Michael.

“Will you be stopping in Lawrence after you take Rachel to the airport tomorrow morning?”

“I was considering it, yes. I was rather hoping our order would be in at the saddlery by now.”

Gabriel’s expression sours. Naomi gives a light sigh and sips at her water.

“Yes,” she says, “It was rather unfortunate that my best saddle pad was torn. I wasn’t expecting Gabriel to be in the barn that day. Anyhow, I’d like for you to pick up another helmet. I doubt our extras are still up to my standards.”

“In my size or Gabriel’s?”

“Gabriel’s would be a better fit for Castiel, I believe.”

Gabriel groans and slouches in his seat. He turns an annoyed expression on Chuck. “How come they always talk like I’m not right here?”

“Sit up straight,” is Chuck’s only reply.

Gabriel gives Castiel a pointed look. “Maybe I should ask why he lets them talk like I’m not here.”

Beside Castiel, Anna takes a small serving of pasta salad. “Y’know, I think a better question is why you still live at home if you think you get treated unfairly. Oh, wait, nevermind. I already know the answer to that question.”

“Do you, now?”

“Sure. It’s because you quit law school for a girl, got dumped, and now you’re stuck at a daycare. Tell me, how are the kindergarteners working out for you?”

“I don’t know, Anna, how’s your situation with Winchester?”

Anna flushes bright red and looks down at her plate with a scowl. Naomi clucks her tongue disapprovingly, staring fiercely at her husband until Chuck clears his throat.

“Gabriel, that’s enough. Anael, don’t antagonize your brother.”

Castiel spends the rest of the meal trying to tune out the passive aggressive conversation his cousins are having. It seems like an eternity later when Gabriel nudges his foot under the table to get his attention. They take their plates to the kitchen sink together before heading upstairs.

When they reach the room Naomi has assigned to Castiel, Gabriel throws himself face-first onto the bed. He groans as Castiel lets out a sigh of relief for having made it through the meal. The room is quiet for a few moments while Castiel rummages for a container of crickets to feed Ruth.

“What’s the Winchester situation?”

Gabriel makes a noise that could be interpreted as either a scoff or a laugh. Castiel isn’t sure which it’s meant to be. “Stupid. It’s stupid. But it’s also the only thing that gets her to leave me alone, cause she doesn’t want anyone to know the extent of it.”

“So what’s a Winchester?”

Gabriel rolls onto his back so he can stare up at the ceiling, flapping his hand uselessly in the air instead of gesturing with it. “Winchester is a guy. Or, rather, two guys. Brothers, actually. Anna’s gotten herself into some idiotic mess with them.”

“I didn’t know Anna was seeing anyone at the moment. She’s not… she can’t be with both of them. They’re brothers, that’s disgusting.”

A bark of laughter comes from the bed as Castiel shakes three crickets into Ruth’s tank. “Don’t worry, she’s not with either of them. You don’t fall in with the legion that still believes Anna is sweet and innocent?”

“Please,” Castiel snorts. “When I was fourteen she made fun of me because I hadn’t kissed a girl yet. When I was fifteen, she teased me for not dating. I hit sixteen and she insulted me for still being a virgin. You know Michael’s wedding two years ago? When Mother and I came to Kansas for that, I caught Anna with one of the servers.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot she did that.”

Castiel gently scratches the top of Ruth’s head, then turns away with a sigh so he can start unpacking his bags. “So these brothers. How does she know them, anyway?”

“Highschool. Anna’s whole problem revolves around the older brother. He was a grade ahead of her, and I guess he was popular. So of course, Anna would shamelessly flirt with him. It wasn’t until sometime in the past few months that she managed to get him into bed, though. Then she had a pregnancy scare, didn’t tell him about it, and started tutoring the younger brother.”

“I don’t quite understand how this all qualifies as a situation.”

“Winchester the Major is supposedly seeing some other chick and Anna’s being irrational about it. She’s using Winchester the Minor to try and get close to him. It’s not working.”

Raindrops streak down the window as Castiel crosses in front of it with a few pairs of shorts in his hands. The sky outside is still a gloomy swathe of gray. “So why is she so hung up on this guy?”

“Oh, she’s not,” Gabriel grumbles. “That’s why it’s so easy to shut her up by mentioning it. She thinks Winchester the Major is an asshole, but apparently he’s super hot and she hates other people touching her stuff.”

“What, she sleeps with him one time and now she owns him?”

Castiel turns to face his cousin, who is now laying half off the bed, staring upside-down at the window. Gabriel shakes his head lazily. His hair brushes against the wood floor. Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls open a drawer on the old dresser so he can place his shorts inside.

“Well. No, not exactly. It’s more that he was some sort of accomplishment for her. She had to work hard to get him so she could throw him away. Like that one absurdly snotty girl in Willy Wonka, you know? She only wants him so people she deems inferior can’t have him.”

“Figures. Enough talk about her, though. Hearing about Anna always makes my stomach churn.”

Gabriel laughs, the shaking motion scooting him farther off the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. You’re lucky you only have to deal with her for a few months. I’m stuck with her until I move out.”

“Why don’t you? Move out, I mean.”

“Free food.”

Castiel stifles a small laugh. He tosses a small blanket towards the bed. “Typical. You’re always thinking with your stomach.”

“You know me so well, Cassie.”

A comfortable silence falls in the room. After his face starts turning red from hanging upside down, Gabriel rolls himself off the bed and begins helping unpack. With two of them working, it doesn’t take long to get Castiel’s things sorted. Halfway through, they close the door and take Ruth out of her tank for company. The end of the night finds them sitting on the floor quietly, watching as Ruth explores her new area. Each time she comes across another new object, she flicks her tongue and stares for a while before deciding it’s safe to continue. Eventually, Gabriel sighs and rests his head back against the bed.

“I’m sorry this family is shitty enough to send you away just for coming out to them.”

Castiel smiles sadly, his blue eyes trained on Ruth. “I’m sorry they’re shitty enough that you can’t come out.”

“What a mess, huh? We have got to find a way to get ourselves through this summer. Hey, maybe I could set you up with someone!”

“… Please don’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel wakes on Friday morning to sunlight streaming through his window and immediately groans. In the three days since he arrived, the weather has only been heavy rainstorms. He had started to think he might never get to wear a tank top again. Especially not after Naomi had shoved a too-large rain jacket at him and made him traipse all the way to the back pasture to ensure it wasn’t flooded. Despite being close to the river, the pasture was only soggy. Castiel, however, had returned to the house dripping wet and covered in mud. Gabriel had needed to lay out towels on the floor to sneak him back indoors.

Castiel sighs heavily before reluctantly opening his eyes. He shoves himself into an upright position, squinting against the bright light. It spills across his bed, over the old striped quilt he’s tossed to the floor, into the glass tank against the wall. Ruth is far more pleased with the morning than Castiel is. She flicks her tongue lazily when she noticed Castiel moving, then settles more comfortably on her fake log so she can bask in the warm sunlight. Castiel sticks out his own tongue by way of response. Ruth doesn’t seem amused.

After a few more moments of deliberation, Castiel decides he should get out of bed. He does so slowly, taking more time to watch Ruth contentedly than he does to actually stand up. When his feet finally touch the floor, Castiel shuffles over to the table holding Ruth’s terrarium. She blinks as he opens the lid and scratches the top of her head.

“Another lazy day for you? Lucky.”

Ruth flicks her tongue and turns her face away. Castiel sighs. “You’re living the good life, Ruthie. Not all of us get to do nothing our entire lives.”

The skink doesn’t respond. Castiel shakes his head and replaces the lid on her tank before crossing the room. He selects a pair of shorts and a ratty tank top from the dresser, then slings a towel over his shoulder and flings open his bedroom door. Gabriel, closing his own door across the hall, raises an eyebrow.

“You, uh… you in a hurry or somethin’?”

Castiel pauses in his doorway, starting to feel a little silly as Gabriel grins. “… No. I need to shower before I get Ruth’s breakfast, though, and she’s impatient.”

“Right. Don’t slip in the bathroom, then.”

Gabriel closes his door the rest of the way, and that’s when Castiel notices that he’s fully dressed and his hair is combed.

“Where are you going? I thought you had the day off.”

“I did. But Garth called in sick, so I gotta go cover the daycare. It was either me or Sarah, and she was planning on heading up to Omaha to see her parents.”

“You were going to be my excuse to avoid Naomi and the barns today.”

“Sorry, Cassie, no-can-do. Ignore them and if they ask, say you have a phone interview with a professor and you can’t help out. It worked while I was still in law school.”

“May as well just kill me now, you know. You’re leaving me to die.”

“Nope. I need you alive for the barbeque tonight. For the love of all things holy, please don’t make me sit through my mother hosting a backyard dinner party by myself.”

Castiel grimaces. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

Gabriel grins and bounces off toward the top of the staircase. “You’re the best, Cassie! See you at six!”

Castiel sighs the moment his cousin is out of sight, but waits to move until he hears the front door close. It’s still early enough in the morning that he doesn’t want to be awake yet, but hopefully Michael and Lucian will both be at work already. That would leave only Naomi and Anna to bother him on their trips between the barns and the house, as Chuck will likely be shut up in his office all day.

After showering, Castiel dresses quickly and heads to the kitchen. He cuts up a small plate of fruit for Ruth, grabs a glass of iced tea for himself, and returns to his bedroom. He spends most of the day there, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a book on his lap, venturing out only to go to the bathroom and refill his tea. When lunchtime rolls around and Castiel eats only a small bowl of sliced carrots, Ruth fixes him with a disapproving stare. She keeps it up until Castiel slides her away from him, to the end of the bed, and then she hurries to climb onto his shoulder so she can’t be ignored.

At five after six in the evening, Gabriel flings open the door with a slightly wild look in his eyes. Before Castiel can even attempt to ask what’s happening, Gabriel scrambles over to the window. He makes a pained noise and sinks to the floor like he’s melting.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks after a moment.

“No,” Gabriel moans. “The witch brigade is early, and Anna clearly wants to torture me, because she made sure that Kali was on the guest list.”

Castiel places a marker on his page and closes his book. He sets it gently on the bed beside Ruth and scoots to the edge. “Who’s Kali?”

“An ex-girlfriend. My last one, actually, but they don’t know that. They think I was with a girl named Alexa, too. His name was actually Alex. We broke up a while after I left law school.”

“So why is Kali here?”

“Anna thinks it’s hilarious whenever Kali insults me, and my mother is still hoping we’ll get back together.” Gabriel finally looks over at Castiel and makes a face.  
“The hell are you wearing?”

“… Pajamas.”

“Did you brush your hair today?”

“Not after my shower, no. Why? Is it bad? Ruth didn’t say anything.”

“Ruth can’t talk. She’s a lizard. You really need to stop relying on her for all your decisions. And you look like a bum, there’s no way you can go down there looking like that. Did you bring any button-ups?”

Before Castiel can respond, Gabriel has pushed up onto his feet and started rummaging through dresser drawers. He pulls out a long sleeved white shirt with a triumphant shout a few moments later, ignoring his cousin’s protests.

“Perfect. You can wear this.”

“I would rather not. It doesn’t fit well and I was rather hoping to let Ruth stain it before I could wear it.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. He tosses the shirt at Castiel. “Wear it. Maybe if you do, we can draw Naomi’s attention to something less significant than my non-relationship with Kali.”

He bounces out of the room after that, leaving Castiel to grimace down at the white shirt. He drops it unceremoniously on the floor beside the old quit, then steps over them both so he can cross the room and close the door. He turns back with a sigh.

“What do you think, Ruthie? Should we help him out or try to escape with our lives?”

Ruth blinks slowly. She flicks her tongue and crawls closer to his pillow, then rests her chin on his book. Castiel makes a face.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

Castiel dresses quickly, but takes extra time to muss his hair even further. He gently kisses the top of Ruth’s head, places her back in her tank, and closes the lid. When he makes his way to the door again, his hair is a careful mess accented by a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt left untucked over raspberry shorts and expensive flip flops. He pauses in the doorway to look back at Ruth.

“When I die, just know it was your fault,” he says, and slides his bright red Ray-Ban sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. Ruth flicks her tongue.

Castiel meets Gabriel at the bottom of the stairs, where his cousin raises an eyebrow at his choice of clothing. Castiel shrugs. “If we’re making people disapprove of my outfit, it may as well be a good one.”

Gabriel grins. “Cassie, I’ve never been happier that you’re a California cousin.”

The two young men walk outside shoulder-to-shoulder and are immediately greeted by a crowd of women in sundresses milling about the side yard while their husbands, sons, and brothers stand awkwardly to the side. Each and every man is wearing khaki shorts. Castiel barely manages to control his urge to gag. He leans in closer to Gabriel as they descend the porch steps, muttering under his breath.

“I should have expected that kind of fashion form Kansas.”

Gabriel elbows him good-naturedly. “We can’t all have good taste.”

Naomi glances in their direction and gives a tight-lipped smile. Despite having her hair down and wearing a loose dress, she looks strained. Castiel debates if he should take pride in knowing that he’s at least part of the reason she’s donned that expression.

“Boys,” Naomi says as they approach. “What… _interesting_ shorts those are, Castiel. Are you sure you wouldn’t be warmer with some nice khakis?”

“I’d sooner die than wear khaki cargo shorts like these bumbling idiots,” Castiel replies, his smile every bit as fake as hers. 

She purses her lips. “Well. Michael was just about to take the meat off the grill. Why don’t you two go take a seat with Anna and Kali?”

Gabriel winces. “Mother, I-”

“Go on, I haven’t got much time.”

“Mother-”

“You don’t want to seem like you’re avoiding that sweet girl, Gabriel.”

“But-”

“No buts, Gabriel. Go. Now.”

Gabriel opens his mouth again and promptly shuts it when his mother sends him a vicious look. Castiel watches from behind his sunglasses as Gabriel seems to shrink, and then decides to throw caution to the wind. Gabriel might be trying to make it through the summer, but Castiel hasn’t got much more to lose.

“Hey, Naomi.”

His aunt seems a little peeved as she pauses her conversation yet again and turns to face her nephew. Her smile is even more forced than before.

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why do we have to subject ourselves to an entire meal with Anna and Kali?”

“Anna is your cousin, Castiel, and Kali is a very sweet girl. It would do you both some good to spend some time with them.”

Castiel gives a sugary sweet grin that is entirely tooth and blinks innocently behind his sunglasses. “Oh, that’s such a great thought, Naomi. I suppose I just wasn’t aware that you wanted us to have such good role models as we became a whore and a vapid bitch.”

He grabs Gabriel by the arm and drags him away, relishing the sounds of Naomi’s guests gasping behind them. His aunt must be speechless, because she doesn’t yell after them. Castiel glances over his shoulder a moment later. He is rewarded by the sight of Naomi struggling to regain control of the conversation. One good thing about country women who think they’re socialites: they love gossip. These dinner party guests are the perfect audience to humiliate Naomi in front of.

Gabriel is still gawking at Castiel by the time they sit down across from Anna and a pretty young woman with dark red lipstick. She looks thoroughly unimpressed by the sight of Gabriel, but her gaze lingers on Castiel. Something about it sends an uneasy squirming feeling through his gut. She wipes one delicate finger through the condensation on her lemonade glass.

“Anna. Who’s your brother’s friend?”

Anna makes a face. “Don’t worry, Kali. He’s not associating with Gabriel by choice. Castiel is just our cousin. He’s been saddled with entertaining Gabriel for the summer.”

“Oh, you poor creature. What a dear you are for taking on that responsibility.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You can’t play that shit with me. I’m not a hick pretending to be high class.”

Kali raises an arched eyebrow. “That’s quite the mouth you’ve got. Does your aunt know you speak like that?”

“Yes, actually. Speaking of Naomi, does she know that you only hang around this family for the money? I mean, that’s it, right? You can’t get it out of Gabriel, not after he broke up with you, so now you’ve got to be close friends with Anna. Because, of course, it’s easier to get to Lucian through his baby sister, and if you can get Lucian, then you’re all set.”

“Castiel,” Anna hisses, looking appalled, “how dare you talk to her like that!”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Kali murmurs. “I rather like his spirit. Although… I’m not entirely sure those shorts are an appropriate length for a family friendly event.”

Gabriel finally seems to find his voice again and scoffs at the statement. “They cover his ass and upper thigh. More than can be said for your dress. Are you headed to the club with Baldur after this, or did you cheat on him too?”

Kali’s cool composure hardens, just for a moment. Anna is more invested in the conversation now that it’s turned to insults that actually hurt. Kali closes herself off behind a mask of elegance.

“Well,” she says under her breath, “at least Baldur had the balls to fuck me.”

“Oh, bug off. We were still in high school, and you know my mother. Imagine living with her. That woman has eyes and ears everywhere. Who wants to fuck with that hanging around?”

“I get by just fine,” Anna cuts in. “Mother is none the wiser. So I’m on Kali’s boat. You’re just a coward, unless… oh my god. Oh my god! Gabriel! You’re gay. Holy shit, you’re totally gay.”

“What? The hell brings you to that conclusion?”

Kali and Anna both look delighted with their ‘discovery’. Anna opens her mouth as if she’s about to start shouting, so Castiel interrupts quickly.

“If we’re going to make assumptions, Anna, we may as well base them in fact. You passed high school math courses, obviously, since you graduated. So let’s look at this statistically. Gabriel not sleeping with one woman doesn’t automatically make him gay. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve avoided fucking people at home as well. And Gabriel has been with how many people since Kali?”

“Three,” Gabriel provides.

“Thank you. So three partners since high school, at a university far from Naomi. Long-term partners, not including any flings or one-night stands. I would then make the mathematically supported assumption that while Gabriel does not whore himself out, he has had enough encounters with women to not be gay. I would also make the statistical assumption that you’ve had at least one pregnancy scare, Anna. Perhaps in the last six months, even?”

Anna opens and closes her mouth several times as a pink flush crawls up her face. Castiel tries not to smirk. Kali purses her lips, looking like she’s considering something, then lets out a low whistle.

“Castiel, was it? I like the way you think. There’s an event at the museum next weekend. I have a plus one.”

“Hard pass. I can’t tell you how unappealing that is.”

Kali clicks her tongue. “Shame. Dress you up a little nicer and you would have made a nice accessory. Are you sure you won’t tag along? I might even consider letting you stay the night if you behave.”

Castiel’s stomach churns uneasily at the thought. Thankfully, Gabriel jumps to his rescue.

“Back off, Kali. Not everyone wants to sleep with you.”

Just then, Lucian and Michael come around with carefully arranged plates of food. Michael sets his carefully in front of the girls, while Lucian drops his unceremoniously beside Castiel and Gabriel. The four of them eat quietly, with minimal talking and maximal dirty looks. After the meal, people begin mingling in the side yard, waiting patiently for Naomi to reappear on the porch with a flute of champagne to make a toast.

She’s just begun ascending the steps when Castiel feels someone sidle up beside him. The warm presence presses closer, then places a hand on his ass and squeezes. He jerks away from the contact, smashing into Anna in his attempt to break free. Anna yelps and crashes to the ground. Castiel whips around to find Kali standing with her hand still outstretched, an amused smile playing on her face, and a wicked look in her eyes. He’s still reeling from Kali’s touch when she brushes past him to help Anna back to her feet.

Anna slaps Castiel across the feet the moment she’s upright, and the sharp noise draws everyone’s attention. Castiel immediately covers his stinging cheek with one hand, blinking rapidly behind his sunglasses to banish pained tears. On the porch, Naomi sets her champagne down with a thud.

“Anael, what on earth are you doing?”

“He threw me to the ground, Mother! I was just giving him what he deserves for shoving a lady.”

“It was an accident,” Gabriel says, holding Castiel’s arm to keep him steady as he recovers from the slap. “He was backing away from Kali. He didn’t mean to hit Anna.”

Kali puts on her sweetest voice and looks to Naomi desperately. “I’m so sorry about all this. I just told him I wasn’t interested in his advances and he caused a scene. I never would have thought he would hurt someone.”

Castiel tugs his sunglasses off and wipes his eyes roughly. “What the _fuck_? I wouldn’t make a move on your insipid ass to save my life!”

The crowd of ladies around them gasps and begins tittering. Naomi seems furious at losing control of her dinner party yet again. Kali looks like she’s the one who has just been slapped.

“Castiel James Novak, there is absolutely no call for that kind of language. Apologize to this young lady at once!”

“Hell no. I’m not going to apologize for telling the truth when she’s being rewarded for spouting lies.”

“Castiel. You will apologize to Kali and your cousin or you will leave my property. I cannot allow you to be so disrespectful.”

“Oh my god,” Castiel scoffs. “This property? Isn’t even yours. All the deeds are still in my mother’s name. And there’s no need to tell me to leave, because if it weren’t for Gabriel, I wouldn’t even be here right now. God knows you all treat him like he’s a piece of garbage. I can’t believe I thought I had a reason to be afraid of you. You’re just like the rest of them, Naomi. You’re a poisonous _bitch_ who sucks the joy out of everyone around you.”

For a moment, everything is silent. Then, Naomi’s face starts to cloud over in silent rage and Castiel feels his stomach drop as he realizes what he’s done. Before he can get pulled aside and punished for insulting his aunt in front of so many people, he turns tail and runs. He loses his shoes by the end of the driveway, and then he’s across the road, through a corn field, and into the woods. Long gone by the time Naomi can even think to move.

When the burning in his lungs finally forces him to stop running, he has mud caked halfway up his calves, a cut from a tree branch beneath his eye, and his sunglasses are clutched tightly in his left hand. Castiel stands for a moment, taking in his surroundings as he catches his breath. It isn’t quite twilight, but the sun is starting to lower towards the horizon. The trees are thinning like he’s going to hit the edge of the woods soon and find another field. He doesn’t know which direction he came from. He doesn’t know which direction to go to get home.

Once his chest stops heaving, Castiel decides to keep moving forward. Soon enough, he comes out of the trees to an open area. Not a field, but a small clearing with a run-down barn at the southern edge. Castiel thinks he sees an old overgrown driveway to the west, but he’s not sure. He approaches the barn cautiously, wondering how long it’s been since it was used.

He slides his red Ray-Bans onto the top of his head as he walks forward. The door creaks open easily, and Castiel immediately sneezes at the dusty air. A floorboard in the hayloft above his head groans. He leaves the door open as he ventures inside. The dirt floor is cool on his feet. Light is streaming in from cracks in the old boards, but there isn’t enough of it to keep the darkness at bay. The loft gives a second loud complaint as Castiel makes his way towards the back of the barn, this time in a different place. Something wooden squeaks behind him as Castiel picks the lid off a wooden barrel to see how the slats are held together.

“Hey, man, you ca-”

Castiel lets out a blood-curdling scream and turns quickly towards the unexpected voice, the barrel lid still in his hand. The owner of the voice tries to move out of the way, but the lid still smacks hard against his shoulder. He swears loudly. Castiel gasps and drops the lid. It lands at his bare feet with a dull thud.

“ _Dude_ ,” the stranger says, starting to straighten back up. “ _Ouch_.”

Castiel shrugs apologetically. “Uh. Sorry? You startled me.”

The stranger rubs his shoulder as he turns back towards Castiel. It’s hard to see his appearance in dim lighting, but he’s taller than Castiel, with more muscle and shorter hair. “Yeah, I got that. In my defense, you startled me first. No one else is really meant to be here.”

He seems to be waiting for a response, but it never comes. Castiel shifts his weight awkwardly. The stranger sighs and takes a step back.

“Are you lost or something?”

“…Or something.”

“Whatever, man. I guess if you’re here now, you may as well actually see the place. Follow me. And don’t hit me again, okay?”

“Um… alright.”

The stranger heads off into the back of the barn. He pauses next to a dark staircase to wait for Castiel to catch up, then leads him into the hayloft. One set of loft doors is hanging open, facing the setting sun. There’s a pile of old, dusty hay stacked in the corner. One bale has been pulled over in front of the door and is surrounded by a pile of loose hay. As they get closer to the door, the stranger slows down and waves a hand in front of him as if to welcome Castiel.

“You’re not from around here, are you? I haven’t seen you in town before.”  
Castiel hesitates a moment, not sure if he should answer. The stranger seems friendly, at least, even if this whole situation is a little odd. After a moment of deliberation, Castiel decides that he’ll allow a conversation. “No.”

The stranger snorts as he takes a seat on the edge of the hay bale and pats the spot beside him. “Wordy. Dude, come sit down. I don’t bite.”

Castiel moves slowly, hovers for a moment, and sits quickly and stiffly. The stranger shakes his head like he’s not sure if he should be amused or not. After a moment of silence, he rolls his eyes.

“Alright, man, I let you into the loft. You owe me a name or something.”

“Castiel.”

“Cast… that’s a mouthful. Mind if I call you Cas?”

“Uh-”

“I’m gonna call you Cas. Name’s Dean,” he says, and holds out his hand. It’s not dirty, but it’s calloused and seems to have something caked up under the nails. Castiel stares at it until it is retracted. Dean wipes it on his oil-stained jeans.

Dean is wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with holes in the hem and heavy work boots to accompany his ratty jeans. A flannel is tied around his waist. Castiel can see that his hair is light brown, almost blonde in the orange sunlight, and his eyes are green. He has a kind face, though that could be aided by his smattering of freckles. He doesn’t try to talk again, and eventually the silence gets the better of Castiel.

“What is this place?”

Dean looks like he’s won some contest Castiel wasn’t aware they were having. “The old Campbell place. House got torn down about ten years ago, then we had a harsh winter and everyone forgot about the barn. I’ve never seen anyone else here before. Kinda thought I was the only one who still knew where it was.”

“You probably are. I found it by accident.”

“But you’re not lost.”

“…No.”

“You don’t seem too sure of that. Did you run away?”

“Not exactly.”

“Are you hiding from someone?”

“No.”

“What are you doing, then?”

“… Not hiding.”

Castiel shrugs, unsure of what to say, and Dean starts laughing. They fall quiet again, watching the sunset. After a few moments, Castiel takes a breath like he’s about to say something, then shakes his head and doesn’t speak. Dean nudges his shoulder.

“Y’know, if you’re thinking you might die out here tonight… I’m not a murderer. I live like two miles up the road.”

“Comforting,” Castiel mumbles.

Dean grins. He makes some stupid joke and Castiel finds himself trying not to laugh. Over the course of a few hours, he starts to relax. The conversation becomes less and less one-sided as Castiel gets more comfortable around Dean, and they talk well past the sun dipping beneath the horizon. It isn’t until Castiel’s fingers and toes have started to go numb that he realizes it’s gotten colder. Dean notices the hairs on Castiel’s arms and legs start to stand on end from the chill in the air.

“Oh, shit, Cas, you’re barefoot. And no jacket? You just be freezing.”

Dean stands and unties his flannel, handing it to Castiel. After a brief moment of hesitation, Castiel takes it and gratefully hugs it around his shoulders as Dean sits back down.

“Thank you. I wasn’t really intending to be out this late. And it wasn’t meant to be so cold, it’s summer.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s June. Nights are still cold until sometime close to July.”

Castiel makes a face. “That’s stupid. When the days are warm, the nights should be warm, too.”

Dean snorts. He reaches over to adjust the flannel for Castiel and shakes his head. “That’s not really how Kansas works. Where are you from, anyway?”

“California.”

“Holy shit. What are you doing here, of all places?”

“Staying the summer at my aunt’s ranch before I start school in the fall.”

“Ranch?” Dean frowns as he thinks. Castiel tries not to wince as he sees dawning realization on his face. “No shit, man. Eden’s Creek? That’s one of the only ranches around here. You’re telling me your aunt is Naomi Milton?”

“Unfortunately. And I really should be getting back, actually.”

Castiel gives a wry smile and stands, starting to brush hay chaff off his shorts. Dean’s flannel hangs too long on his torso and flaps around his wrists. Dean stands as well, most slowly than Castiel. He doesn’t bother trying to get the hay off his pants.

“I should head home, too. You want a ride back to your aunt’s?”

Castiel blinks. He’s not sure how to respond to the offer. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t know the way.”

Dean shrugs. “Don’t sweat it. We’re not that far away, really. Roads are a little out of the way, but it’s too cold for you to walk. C’mon California, I’ll give you a lift.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s truck is old. The wheel wells on the bed are half eaten away by rust. The windshield is cracked right along the top. The doors are difficult to open because the locks stick. The windows have handles to roll them down, the headlights are manual, and half of the lights on the dashboard dials don’t work. The leather bench seat has a few small holes where stuffing is poking out.

Castiel tries not to make a face as he climbs in, but apparently he doesn’t try hard enough. Dean’s ears darken and make his freckles more pronounced. He quickly leans over to brush a few cans away from Castiel’s feet.

“It’s not usually this gross, I promise. Doesn’t usually smell like beer, either, but… I didn’t get the chance to clean it after last night.”

He starts the truck after only a little fight from the engine. They roll backwards onto the dirt road as Castiel struggles with his seatbelt.

“I really don’t have a say in this, and I apologize if I’m overstepping my bounds, but that’s rather a large amount of cans. Is it really safe for you to drink that much? Nonetheless driving afterwards…”

Dean laughs a little. It doesn’t sound like a particularly happy laugh. “Thanks for the concern, Cas. But they aren’t mine. My dad borrowed my truck.”

“Oh. I- sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Don’t sweat it. Everyone who knows my dad knows he’s got kind of a problem. They’re just too polite to say anything because he’s on the force.”

Castiel watches the dark road pass slowly in the headlights. Dean’s life is none of his business. He knows that. He bites his cheek, but ultimately can’t reign in his curiosity.

“Why doesn’t your mother do anything?”

Dean is quiet for a long while. Castiel is opening his mouth to apologize for asking when Dean finally replies. His hands are tight on the steering wheel.

“She’s dead. I’m pretty sure that’s what set off Dad’s drinking, actually. I don’t know, though, I was young.”

“… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You know as much as anyone else does, now.”

“Even so. It wasn’t my place.”

Dean glances over at him with an expression that Castiel can’t quite decipher. “Are you sure you’re related to the Miltons?”

Castiel can’t help it; he gives a small snort of laughter. “I’ll take that statement as a compliment. I would like to apologize, however. I shouldn’t be asking about your personal life when you’re doing me a favor.”

“No way, man, it’s… it’s fine.”

A few turns in the road later, they pull into the driveway of Eden’s Creek. Castiel unbuckles immediately and scoots toward the door. Dean stops under the arch, confused, as Castiel attempts to open his door.

“What are you doing? I can drive you right up to the house.”

Castiel finally manages to wrench the door open and clambers out, then pauses and turns to face Dean. “That’s… uh. Thank you. I’ll… well. Thanks.”

And he closes the door.

Dean stays there, letting the truck idle as Castiel walks away. Castiel feels Dean’s eyes on his back. He can’t help but feel he’s somehow confused the man. He’s just about to reach the trees along the driveway when he hears Dean shout behind him.

“Hey, California! Wait up!”

Castiel stops in place and turns to see the truck door hanging open and Dean’s silhouette jogging towards him. He frowns as Dean gets closer, squinting to see him through the headlights.

“What?”

“Saw these in the grass. I thought they might be yours.”

He holds out a pair of flip flops. Castiel recognizes them as the pair he had lost while tearing away from the dinner party. After a moment, he takes them. Dean stands for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his feet. Castiel notices that he’s slightly bow-legged. Kind of like a cartoon cowboy. Castiel tries not to grin at the thought.

“Thank you,” he says, and takes a step backwards. “I had forgotten about them.”

Dean shrugs. “No problem.” There’s a beat of quiet, broken by a cricket. “So. There’s this path to the Campbell place off the corner of South Lamplight and Old Campbell. If you ever wanted to go back, y’know.”

He scuffs his toe awkwardly on the ground. If Castiel didn’t know any better, he would almost say that Dean seems embarrassed. He gives a tentative smile in return.

“Maybe if I ever figure out what road I’m on already, I’ll consider it.”

Dean’s expression is one of relief and… hope, maybe? He takes a couple steps back from Castiel. He lifts one hand as if he’s going to wave, then runs it through his hair instead and lets out his breath slowly. 

“Right. Cool. Well… I should- I should get home.”

Castiel nods and starts to turn away. “Yes. Goodnight, Dean.”

“… ’Night, Cas.”

They both hesitate a moment longer, waiting to see if the other is going to say anything more, then turn. Castiel hears the door of the truck close. He walks out of range of the headlights. The rattling sound of the engine moves behind him, then fades. He holds his flip flops tight in his hands as he makes his way up the drive towards the house.

When the house comes into view, Castiel pauses. There are no lights on inside. Everything is quiet. From here, it looks like it will be safe to enter. So long as he doesn’t wake anyone up, Castiel should be able to slip back to his bedroom unnoticed. Even so, he wastes a few more minutes standing in the dewy grass so he can work up the nerve to head up the porch steps.

The door swings open silently, and Castiel thanks whatever deity that’s listening for Naomi’s insistence that everything in her house look and function perfectly. He eases the door closed behind him. Castiel wavers in the entryway, debating if he should wipe his dusty feet on the rug or not. He decides not.

Castiel tiptoes up the stairs and manages to make it to his bedroom without incident. But when he pushes his door open, there’s someone sitting on his bed, waiting for him. Castiel doesn’t notice at first. Not until the figure moves while he’s setting his flip flops gently on the floor. He lets out a yell and quickly smacks a hand over his own mouth to muffle the sound.

“Gabriel, what the _hell_ ,” he hisses, the flannel flopping over his fingertips as he allows his hand to fall back to his side.

Gabriel ignores him until he’s given Castiel a once-over and gently patted his arms and shoulders. He lets out a relieved sigh and hangs his head for a moment. “Thank God,” he mumbles. And then he smacks the back of Castiel’s head.

“What the hell yourself! You were gone for hours, Cassie, what were you thinking? I didn’t know if you were okay or not!”

Castiel winces and rubs the back of his head. “What’s with this family and smacking me today?”

“Anna and Naomi were pissed. I half thought they were going to go after you for a while there. I mean, really, what the fuck was all that?”

“… Sorry. I- I don’t know, Gabe, I… I just got so frustrated. I have no idea why I lost control like that.”

Gabriel relents with a tiny smile. “Well, I guess it was the most entertaining dinner party I’ve ever been to, so there’s that.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and steps away from his cousin to go check on Ruth. “You’re welcome.”

“Where did you go, anyway?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. I just kinda… went. Why are you still awake?”

“I was waiting for you. I wasn’t just going to go to bed when you were out gallivanting God-knows-where. You didn’t take a phone or anything. You just ran, dude.”

Ruth comes crawling out from under her fake log when Castiel removes the lid of her terrarium. He remains quiet as he picks her up. She presses close to his chest, covering his collarbone like a safety blanket. He can’t feel her tiny claws through the flannel shirt, and that’s what finally makes him remember that he’s wearing it. No matter if he wants to or not, he’s going to have to see Dean again to return the shirt. He has no way of contacting the green-eyed stranger. That can be a morning problem, he supposes. Right now, he just wants to sleep. Behind him, Gabriel clears his throat.

“Cassie? Whose shirt is that?”

“Guy in a pickup. He found me and gave me a ride back to the ranch. I was cold.”

He’s not lying, per se, but he’s also not telling the whole truth, and he’s not sure why. It’s not like Gabriel is going to tell anyone. And yet, Castiel feels almost as jumpy around his cousin as he had his first night here, before he had once again adjusted to the fact that Gabriel wasn’t out to get him.

“Huh. Weird.” Gabriel is speaking in a light tone, but his eyes are narrowed suspiciously. “Well, I’ve got the 10 am shift tomorrow, so I’m going to bed. Since my rogue cousin has returned and all.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. He scratches Ruth’s back instead of waving to Gabriel as he backs out of the room. “Don’t let the five-year-olds boss you around,” he calls softly.

Gabriel’s hand reappears to flip Castiel off, and then the door closes. Ruth slides easily from Castiel’s hands as he places her back in her tank. He falls backwards onto his bed, arms spread out to either side of him and the mattress bouncing as it adjusts to his weight. Without Gabriel, the room is dark and quiet. He can hear the crickets singing outside.

“What a night, Ruthie.”

Castiel turns his head so he can see Ruth better, then rolls just enough to pull his legs onto the bed with him. He watches Ruth settle back into her favorite sleeping spot.

“I met someone who isn’t a total asshole, and you don’t even care. You do know that this has never happened in Kansas before, don’t you?”

When no response comes, Castiel makes a face.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let you sleep. Goodnight, Ruth.”

 

The bedroom door slams open, loud and sudden. Castiel jerks awake and very nearly falls off the edge of the bed in his half-conscious state of surprise. He doesn’t even have time to blink and clear his vision before Anna is stalking across the room and shoving him the rest of the way to the floor.

“You are _such_ a _bastard_ ,” she shrieks. Her red hair is a wild halo around her face.

Castiel speaks without giving much thought to what he’s saying. He rubs absently at his eyes, the sleeves of the flannel shirt still covering his hands. “Actually, my parents were legally married when I was conceived, so in the traditional sense of the word-”

Anna throws her hands up and makes some unintelligible noise. “Why do you have to be so weird all the time?”

“Uh-”

“Shut up! You are such an incredible pain in my ass, I honestly can’t believe it. The party last night was supposed to be for announcing the date of the release party for Father’s new novel, but you made it all about you. I mean, how dare you! Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you caused?”

“Anna,” Castiel says, picking himself up off the floor. “I don’t care. I’m here for a summer, I literally do not give a shit about your family drama.”

“Well I’ll have you know that Mother called Aunt Muriel about the property deeds this morning.”

Castiel shrugs at her haughty tone. “Okay?”

Anna stares at him for a long moment. She turns with a huff, flicking hair over her shoulder. She pauses in the doorway to glare back at him. “When we have total rights on the ranch, you’re finished. You won’t have anything.”

She flounces out of the room like she’s won something. Castiel looks quizzically at Ruth. He doesn’t have a chance to move before Anna appears again.

“And another thing!” She practically shouts, pointing her finger accusatorily. “Don’t you ever insult me or my friends again! You’ll be _lucky_ if Kali still associates with you after what you did to her!”

This time when she leaves, Anna doesn’t come back. Castiel stares at his open door with a confused frown for a long moment.

“Hey, Ruthie? Do you think she’s worked up, or is she actually that stupid?”  
Ruth blinks slowly. Castiel shakes his head. 

“You’re right.”

Castiel surveys his room with a sigh, crossing his arms. His flip flops are against the wall, having been shoved aside when Anna flung his door open. The quilt from his bed is still lying on the floor with the white shirt rumpled next to it. A dresser drawer is open. There’s dirt on his sheets form where dried mud had flaked off his legs overnight. He makes a face.

“How do you feel about going for a walk, Ruthie? I think it’s warm enough to let you explore Kansas for an hour or two.”

Anna shoots Castiel a dirty look when he passes through the living room a few minutes later, Ruth laying contentedly on his arm. The skink lifts her head and flicks her tongue excitedly when Castiel pushes through the screen door onto the back porch. She wriggles out of his grasp the moment he lowers her into the grass.

Castiel sits on the lowest step. He rests his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees, and watches Ruth crawl around. The grass, though immaculately mowed, is taller than she is. Castiel grins when he realizes this, and instantly stretches out his leg so he can nudge Ruth with his toes.

“Did you know you were this short? You haven’t been in grass since that time I snuck you into the dog park three blocks down.”

Ruth levels him with a long look and goes back to snuffling her way through the yard. Castiel sticks his tongue out at her. He moves into the grass not long after and lays on his back. Ruth investigates the newly vacated porch step while Castiel revels in the feel of the sun on his skin.

The distant sound of voices draws him from his thoughts some time later. Castiel sits up to see Anna conversing with Naomi outside one of the pasture gates. Neither of them seem to know he can see them, so he watches them with a pensive expression. After a while, he turns his gaze back to Ruth and plays with the hem of the flannel shirt. Eventually, he sighs and picks her up out of the grass. Ruth wiggles a little to protest, but ultimately settles happily against his collar bone.

Once they’ve gotten back inside and up the stairs, Castiel catches a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror and pauses. His hair is an absolute mess. There’s a little bit of dry mud caked around his ankles. He’s still wearing his blue shirt and raspberry shorts from last night, though both are rumpled from being slept in. The yellow flannel is, if possible, even more wrinkled. Castiel pulls a face. This really isn’t a good color combination. The borrowed shirt hangs loosely off of him. He turns to the side, studying the way it hangs down past his hips.

“I bet this fits Dean,” he murmurs to Ruth. “His shoulders probably fill it out really well.”

Ruth crawls higher onto his shoulder and flicks her tongue. He smiles softly.

“It does smell nice, doesn’t it? At least you look good in this color, Ruthie.”

Castiel stands there for a moment longer, then finishes the journey to his bedroom. He allows Ruth to crawl around the floor after he’s closed the door. He kneels beside his bed so he can pull out a sketch pad and a few pencils. He hasn’t touched either since he got here, but something about the yellow plaid pattern of Dean’s shirt as a background for Ruth’s scales had made him want to draw it. To commit it to memory.

He lays the shirt out on the floor in front of him and sits with his back against the bed and his knees drawn to his chest. Tilting his head to the side, Castiel contemplates the shirt. Now that he’s sitting here, he’s not sure why he wants to sketch this. Nevertheless, he does.

He’s barely drawn the general shape of the rumpled shirt when Ruth makes her way over and settles down onto the center of the worn fabric. Castiel bites his lip as he sketches her into the picture, looking content as ever while napping on the shirt of a total stranger. He sets his sketchbook aside after he’s finished and leaves Ruth where she is while he takes a quick shower.

When he returns to his room, wrapped in a towel, Ruth is half standing on the paper pad, as if she’s admiring the artwork of herself. Castiel rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the dresser to rummage through his clothing.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, Ruthie. I might be your biggest fan, but I’m also probably your only fan. You’d have more if I had people I trusted to show you off to, though, trust me.”

Ruth flicks her tongue. Castiel laughs.

“I’ll tell Dean you like his shirt when I give it back. Right now, however, I need you to take a little time back in your terrarium.”

She wiggles when he scoops her off the floor. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and lowers her back into her tank.

“I won’t stay out so late tonight. I promise. I just need to find my way back to that barn and give Dean his shirt back. And maybe do a little drawing. It would make a nice addition to my sketch pad, don’t you think?”


	4. Chapter 4

Locating the Campbell barn is easier said than done, apparently. Once he’s gotten dressed and given Ruth fresh water, Castiel slips on his flip flops and sets out with his sketch book in hand. It takes him close to two hours to find the intersection Dean had mentioned last night, and another fifteen minutes to find the overgrown path through the trees. But sure enough, it leads straight to the barn. Castiel wipes sweat from his brow and grins, fiercely proud of himself.

He wanders inside first, calling Dean’s name, but the other man doesn’t seem to be there. It doesn’t take long for Castiel to give up looking for him. He heads back outside and roots around in the overgrown grass until he finds an old log to sit on. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on the roof of the barn and casting dappled shadows through the leaves of the trees. 

Castiel sits there for hours, sketching a few pages full of different parts of the barn. It’s peaceful, here in the quiet afternoon sun in a secluded clearing. A gentle breeze rustles the grass. Castiel begins etching the outlines of a few plants into the foreground of his drawing. A twig snaps behind him. He pauses what he’s doing, listening for more movement.

“Hey, Calif-”

Castiel yelps and whips around to face behind him, smacking Dean’s shoulder with his sketchbook in the process. Dean has his hands raised to protect his face and he seems to be holding in a laugh. Castiel lets out his breath in an annoyed whoosh.

“What the hell, Dean?”

“Is this gonna be a thing with you? Hitting me with stuff?”

Dean scrambles onto the log beside him, still sporting a shit-eating grin. Castiel narrows his eyes at him.

“Maybe if you keep startling me. It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t hurt all that much this time. Wasn’t a wooden barrel lid. Whatcha doin’, anyway?”

“... What if I told you I was hiding?”

“Bullshit.” Dean reaches over and tugs the sketch pad from Castiel’s hands, careful not to tear any pages in the process. “What’s your weapon of choice today?” He turns it over in his hands, frowning, and then flips a page to the drawing Castiel had been working on of the barn. His eyes widen and he lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit, California. You shoulda told me you were a starving artist. This is good.”

Castiel feels his ears heat up and hopes he’s not blushing. “It’s just a barn.”

“Yeah, and it’s super great. You even got that rusty piece of shit that used to be a weathervane!”

Dean looks delighted as he flips through a few more pages. He quickly stops himself and looks up at Castiel with a concerned expression. “Wait, are you okay with this? I didn’t mean to just go through your stuff, man, it was cool and I didn’t think and… sorry.”

Castiel shrugs. “It’s nothing I haven’t shown people before. Or… well, technically, I drew those today, so they are things I haven’t shown people before, but- I’m rambling. No, I don’t mind.”

“Can you draw other stuff, too? Like animals and shit?”

Castiel reaches over and turns to the drawing of Ruth on Dean’s shirt. “You tell me. I spend most of my time working on scenery, but I enjoy living subjects as well.”

Dean raises the sketch pad so he can see it better. “What is that thing? Some kind of lizard?”

“She’s a blue-tongued skink. Her name is Ruth, and she’s almost three years old.”

“Wait, it’s your pet?”

“Yes. Ruth is very good at giving advice.”

Dean hands the sketchbook back with a small shudder. “No judgement, man, that’s pretty cool. But I gotta admit… lizards and snakes freak me out. I can’t imagine living with one.”

Castiel tips his head to the side, an amused smile playing at his lips. “I can’t see it.”

“See what?”

“You. Being afraid of reptiles.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re… y’know. You just don’t seem like someone who would be intimidated by something so much smaller than you. You should be afraid of something more practical. Like… thunderstorms.”

Dean grins. “How is being afraid of thunderstorms practical? It’s thunder. I mean, really? Dude, there was this one time when I was, like, twelve, maybe? My dad wasn’t home and this snake got up on our front porch and it would look at me every time I tried to pass the door, and I couldn’t get it to move. It was scary as hell, I swear. I was trapped inside until my buddy Charlie got pissed that I hadn’t met up with her yet. She rode her bike four miles down the road just to yell at me, and she just kinda picked the snake up and threw it into the yard.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “At least your friends have common sense.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What happened to Cas from last night, huh? You’re throwing shade now!”

“I was… stressed, to say the least, last night. And I’ll have you know, I don’t ‘throw shade’. I tell it like it is.”

Dean allows his jaw to hang open in mock offense. Castiel bites his lip to keep from chuckling at the absurd expression. Dean shoves him lightly before settling more comfortably on their log and staring up at the old barn. The quiet is nice, more peaceful than Castiel would like to admit to. It doesn’t take Dean long to break it again.

“So what else can you do, California?”

“What do you mean?”

“You got mad aim when you’re smacking people with whatever is in your hands. You can draw hella good art. You’ve got a lizard for a pet. What else does Mr. California Man do?”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but his expression is bemused. “I know five languages aside from English.”

“What? No way. I’m calling bullshit.”

Castiel chuckles at the look on Dean’s face and nods. “My mother is an investment banker and my father is a CEO, Dean. I’ve been in outrageously expensive private schools my entire life. I really should know six languages, but I never paid much attention in Spanish.”

“Wait so you know five languages, but the one that you don’t know is Spanish? What the hell, man? My little brother knows Spanish.”

“You have a little brother?”

“Yeah, his name is Sam. He’s sixteen and thinks he’s cool. But that’s not the point, here. What do you know?”

“Uh. Well, English, obviously. Then German, French, Greek, and-”

“Why do you know Greek?”

“Because I could take Greek or Russian as an elective in the seventh grade, and Greek was going to help me more with mythology than Russian. I took Latin, too, but it’s a dead language, so I don’t really count that as a language I can speak.”

“What the shit, man. You’re like a spy or some shit. Did you go to spy school?”

“No. But they did teach us to eliminate targets for money.”

“Holy fuck,” Dean breathes.

Castiel laughs so hard he nearly falls off the log. Then he really does fall after Dean pushes him, his scowl faltering as he tries to pretend he’s mad.

“Don’t play me like that.”

“You played yourself,” Castiel gasps. “What kind of school would actually teach children to be hitmen?”

“I dunno, somewhere in California. We barely get to keep Home Ec and woodshop at Lawrence.”

Castiel slowly manages to control his giggles. His sketchbook lies forgotten a few feet away as he leans against the log so he can get a better view of Dean’s face. “I was never good at woodshop. But it was either woodshop or physical education, and there was no way I was going to run two miles every day with the rich assholes I went to school with. Orchestra was fun, though.”

Dean shakes his head. “You had orchestra? Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because not only were they private academies, they were boarding schools.”

“Of course.” Dean leans forward to pluck a particularly long piece of grass and begins twirling it around his finger. “So, what did you play in orchestra?”

“Violin, mostly. Sometimes flute. Once they had me fill in for our pianist, but I always preferred violin to both flute and piano.”

“So that’s… five languages- six if you count Latin- plus three instruments plus mad art skills plus a lizard. _And_ you’re a hitman. Are you a god or something?”

“Or something,” Castiel says. “Oh, but speaking of gods, I learned that my cousin’s ex-girlfriend is named after a Hindu goddess.”

“No shit. Who?”

“Kali.”

Dean lets out a bark of laughter. “Bullshit. Kali Sharma is a bitch, there’s no way she should be named after a goddess. Is she still hanging out with Anna, then?”

“Sadly. It’s rough on Gabriel. And both of them are rather unpleasant. You know, that’s why I found this place yesterday. I was getting away from Kali after she grabbed my ass. Well, that and I called Naomi a poisonous bitch.”

“Balls of _steel_ ,” Dean says, his voice laced with awe. “I know she’s your aunt and all, but I seriously can’t believe you would call Naomi Milton a bitch. To her face?”

“It wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made.”

The two of them carry on like that for nearly an hour, trading small tidbits of information back and forth, leaning on opposite sides of the log until Dean sits up with a gasp. Castiel startles at the sudden movement and pushes into a more upright position as well. Dean turns to face him excitedly.

“Hey, do you have to join the Sawyers or can you stay out for a while?”

Castiel frowns at him. “Who are the Sawyers?”

“… Your family.”

“My family is the Miltons, not-”

Dean drags a hand down his face and groans. “It’s a reference, Cas. The Sawyers. Leatherface’s family. Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” As Castiel gets more and more confused with each passing word, Dean shakes his head. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never seen that. It’s a classic.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you I haven’t seen it.”

“Oh my god, Cas. What about The Shining?”

“No.”

“Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“No.”

“What about Psycho? The Exorcist? Jaws?”

“No, no, and no.”

Dean stares blankly at him. “Remind me to remind you we’re having a movie night. It is a crime against all humanity that you haven’t seen these movies.”

“I don’t see how-”

“Nope, don’t say a word. You’re coming with me. We need to tell Jo about this. Jo will understand how awful this situation is.”

 

One twenty minute truck ride later (during which Dean lectured Castiel on classic rock as the radio blasted Metallica), Castiel finds himself standing in the dusty parking lot of a rundown building with neon lights that flicker weakly but proudly display the words: Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Dean sidles up to Castiel’s side after messing with a toolbox in the bed of the pickup. He hands over a pair of firetruck red Ray-Ban sunglasses.

“Here, you forgot these last night. Don’t worry about the Roadhouse- it might look like a biker bar, but it’s totally a family restaurant. See, there’s Jody and her daughters, Claire and Alex.”

Dean raises a hand to wave to a woman in a sheriff’s jacket with short brown hair. She’s holding the hands of two little girls, one blonde and one with black hair, but she nods to Dean with a smile. The three of them walk over and hop into a truck where a blonde woman is waiting for them. The woman flashes a blinding smile and waves excitedly at Dean. He grins.

“That’s Donna, Jody’s wife. She’s overly friendly, but she’s got a good heart.”

Castiel tentatively waves back to the woman before Dean shepherds him inside the bar. It’s cooler than outside despite all the windows being open, and it’s filled with the sounds of chattering families and men drinking beer with their buddies. The crack of a pool ball is followed by victorious whooping. Dean immediately heads in that direction.

A blonde girl is dancing circles around a young man with a mullet as her two friends look on in exasperation. Dean walks over confidently and scoops the blonde into a bear hug before she can run from him. She squirms, shrieking with laughter.

“Dean, you put me down! I said down, you oaf!”

He sets her down, a brilliant smile splitting his face, and thumps the mulleted man on the back. “She beat you again?”

“I ain’t had enough beer yet, man, it’s not my fault.”

“Ashton Charles Miller, you had best not be talking about drinking in my bar!” a voice shouts from across the bar. Castiel glances over to see a middle-aged woman with auburn hair tending the bar. She shakes her finger at the mullet man- Ashton, apparently- but her scowl quickly slips into a smile.

“You ain’t never followed a law about serving minors here, Ellen,” Dean calls back, and the woman throws a dirty towel at him. He snatches it out of the air. “Thanks, now I can wipe the floor after I crush Jo at pool!”

“As if,” Jo snorts, punching him in the arm. Dean immediately drops the towel and grabs her in a headlock. She struggles at first, but yelps out a surrender when he starts to give her a noogie.

Castiel watches all of this with wide blue eyes, clutching his sunglasses to his chest like they’ll protect him from this rowdy group. Jo catches sight of Castiel as she’s pulling away from Dean and stops dead.

“Who’re you?”

“Uh-”

“This is Cas,” Dean jumps in, and Castiel tries hard to swallow the ball of anxiety that’s lodged itself in his chest. “Cas, this is Jo-” he shoves her shoulder “-Ash-” he reaches over Jo’s head to prod the man with the mullet “-Charlie-” the red-head sitting on the edge of the pool table waves cheerfully “-and Aaron.” A young man with a short brown beard gives Castiel a tentative smile. “We all went to school together, but some of us are older than others.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re cooler,” Charlie pipes up, a smug grin settling onto her face. “In fact, I think you’re a bigger nerd than all of us combined.”

“That’s a lie and you know it! You’re the one who started the D’n’D club in high school.”

“Someone had to! And it’s not like every single one of you didn’t show up early every week.”

Dean nudges Castiel with his elbow as the other four dissolve into a noisy argument. “Jo’s mom, Ellen, owns this place. She’s got great food here. I figured we could grab something to eat before you had to get home to your snake.”

“Lizard.”

“Right. Anyhow, my buddy Benny is the cook, and he makes the best burgers. You like burgers?”

“… I- I’m not sure.”

“Wait,” Ash practically shouts, drawing the attention of the whole group. “Did he just say he’s not sure if he likes burgers or not?”

Castiel casts an uneasy look at Dean, who shrugs.

“You brought this on yourself,” he says.

Before Castiel can say anything else, Dean’s friends have surrounded him and are ushering him towards a large booth table. They’re all chattering, but he hears Dean speaking softly behind the group and glances behind him. Dean is walking with Charlie, allowing the others to push Castiel in their preferred direction.

“How’d you meet him?” Charlie asks, trying to keep her voice low.

“The old barn. Found him there last night. Looked half terrified, Charlie, and I didn’t know who the hell he was.”

“Where’d he come from?”

“California. Can you believe that? He’s Anna and Gabriel Milton’s cousin.”

“Really? He seems so… _mild_.”

“I know. Trust me, though, he’s cool.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

Charlie grins and loops her arm through Dean’s. A light flush spreads across his freckled cheeks, but not until Charlie leans close to him to whisper something Castiel isn’t able to catch. He’s just beginning to puzzle over this when he’s deposited onto the booth seat. Dean sits beside him, and then they’re squeezed in on both sides by his friends. A young woman with dark hair brings them some menus. Her nametag reads _Lisa_. Dean asks her about a boy named Ben. Lisa responds that he’s visiting his grandparents, and when she walks away to grab the table drinks, Dean explains that Lisa is a few years older than the rest of the group and Ben is her son.

Castiel is quickly drawn into a lively conversation that gets livelier when two more people appear and squish their way into the booth. One of them is a boy who looks no older than Castiel, with mousy brown hair and a timid air about him. The other is a tall brunette woman who unabashedly forces her way into a spot beside Charlie, who immediately kisses her.

“Garth, Dorothy, this is Cas. Cas, Garth and his cousin Dorothy.”

“Or Dorothy and her cousin Garth,” Charlie inserts, already halfway into Dorothy’s lap as she cuddles up. “Don’t get me wrong, Garth, I love you lots, but we all know who needs to come first.”

“Only because I’m older, Charlie,” Dorothy chides, her tone much more gentle than Castiel would have expected. He nods towards both her and Garth tentatively.

The night wears on as Castiel talks and laughs with Dean’s friends. He learns that Dean, Ash, and Benny all graduated together, and that Charlie, Dorothy, and Aaron were all a year behind them. Jo and Garth headed up the back of the pack, having graduated just a few weeks ago, the same as Castiel. Dean makes a big deal out of Castiel being younger than him, but Castiel manages to win the argument by reminding him that almost all his friends are younger than he is.

True to form, Jo throws a fit when she learns that Castiel hasn’t seen any of her favorite movies. She is backed up by both Charlie and Dorothy, though Garth sides with Castiel- just because he’s seen the movies doesn’t mean they’re good, and Castiel shouldn’t have to see them. Ultimately, the six of them decide that they’ll have a group movie night. They manage to drag Benny into their plans when he takes a break from the kitchen to come meet Castiel, and that’s how Castiel finds himself hanging out with some variation of Dean’s friends nearly every day for the rest of the month.

Dean spends most of his free time with Castiel after their dinner at the Roadhouse. When he finds out that Castiel stays home when he isn’t at the barn, Dean begins picking him up in the mornings and taking him to work. Castiel meets Bobby Singer, a gruff man who says he doesn’t care if Castiel hangs around his salvage yard, so long as he doesn’t break anything. Castiel looks around and decides he won’t have to worry about that. He spends most of his time at the salvage yard sitting cross-legged on the hood of an old, smashed car, sketching pictures of Dean as he works.

The month of June culminates in a sunny day that is far too hot for its own good. Castiel is sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, wearing a loose tank top and his raspberry shorts, with his sunglasses shoved up into his hair and a book resting open on his lap. He has his bare feet slung up on the porch railing. The sound of an engine draws Castiel’s attention away from his book. He has to struggle not to smile at the sight of a familiar pickup truck, despite his confusion.

Dean parks in front of one of the barns. Castiel watches as he tucks his keys into his pocket and pulls a toolbox off the bench seat beside him. Naomi walks out of the barn and pulls off her riding gloves. She extends one elegant hand to Dean, who shakes it firmly. They walk together a ways and stop beside a pasture gate. Naomi points out towards the far-off tree line. Dean nods and says something more. Naomi pats him on the shoulder and heads back towards the barn.

Castiel watches as Dean pushes into the empty pasture and walks into the tall grass. He walks for what seems like forever before he is obscured by the ridge of a small hill that Castiel had forgotten about. Castiel frowns and sets his book aside, then stands to follow Dean. He lowers his sunglasses from his hair to the bridge of his nose as he steps into the sunlight. It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to reach the back of the pasture. Dean looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps and beams.

“Hey, California.”

“Hello, Dean. What are you doing here?”

Dean chuckles and bends over. When he straightens back up, he’s pulling on a pair of worn leather gloves. “Sorry I invaded your kingdom of solitude without an invitation. Your aunt hired me to fix this fence.”

Castiel squints from behind his sunglasses. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s broken? Apparently a horse kicked it out about a week ago and they haven’t gotten anyone over here yet. Just needs a new length of barbed wire, really.”

He bends over again, this time coming up with a pair of wire cutters. His hands and wrists are protected by the gloves, but his forearms are bare and tanned. In classic Dean fashion, he’s wearing an AC/DC t-shirt and oil-stained jeans over a pair of work boots. Castiel looks down at his own outfit and bare feet and feels strangely under dressed. They talk as Dean works, though Dean’s responses are sporadic until he’s managed to cut away the damaged section of fence. Castiel asks more questions than he really means to, and Dean seems amused with each and every one.

Finally, Dean peers up at Castiel from where he’s kneeling in the grass beside a fence post. His expression is soft. Castiel feels something squirm in his gut.

“What?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean shakes his head. “Nothing. You could see better without those sunglasses on, you know?”

Castiel barely has time to frown and open his mouth before Dean stands up and closes the distance between them. He’s taller than Castiel is, and it’s easy for him to lift the sunglasses off of Castiel’s face and out of reach. Castiel huffs.

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t jump that high.”

Dean glances up at his arm stretched out above his head and shrugs. “Not my problem. Hey, do you think these would look good on me?” He grins down at Castiel and slowly places the red frames on his own face. “What do you think?”

“They look nice,” Castiel says before he can stop himself. 

Then he pauses. That’s not what he meant to say. He had meant to demand for the glasses back. His expression turns to one of confusion, and Dean’s mischief melts into something warmer. He takes the glasses off and places them back on Castiel’s face before seeming to think better of himself and sliding them up into Castiel’s hair.

Dean’s hands are still on either side of Castiel’s face a moment later when Castiel meets Dean’s gaze. He reaches his hands up and rests them on Dean’s forearms without thinking. The distant sounds of horses whinnying and the breeze rustling through the tall grass fade into the background. Something about this moment seems right. Right for what, he doesn’t know. He can barely hear his own thoughts. Is he even thinking?

Dean’s right hand slips down from the temple of Castiel’s sunglasses to his cheek. The leather glove is soft and cool on his skin. His breath sticks in his chest. And then a shout cuts through whatever haze has come over him.

“Hey! Winchester!”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean and Castiel break apart like they’ve been burned. Castiel can feel his cheeks heating up, though he isn’t sure why. A quick glance over at Dean shows that the tips of his ears are pink. Castiel frowns, confused at the sight, just as Anna crests the hill.

Sometime in the past two hours, she’s curled her hair and put on a light green sundress. She’s sporting a brilliant smile, though it wavers for a moment when she catches sight of Castiel. He folds his arms across his chest and struggles not to get annoyed just by her presence.

“Sorry I didn’t come say hi sooner, Winchester. Mother didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”

She clasps her hands behind her back and swishes her skirt in what Castiel supposes is meant to be a shy manner. She looks like a child. Dean grimaces and wipes sweat off his forehead.

“That’s okay, Anna,” he says. His voice is light and friendly, but he sounds uncomfortable. “Really, I- I don’t mind.”

“It’s awfully hot out here.” Anna says this like it’s something to remark upon.

Dean purses his lips and glances at the sky. “Yep.”

“You should take a break, you know. We have some lemonade up at the house.”

“Uh… nah, I think I’m good. The fence ain’t gonna fix itself.”

“Well, don’t work too hard, then. I’m meeting up with Kali in a while, but you should stop up at the house before I leave and we’ll get some of that lemonade for you.”

Anna bats her eyes at him. He nods once and lifts his hand by way of a wave. Just before she turns to flounce away, Anna fixes Castiel with a glare. He frowns back at her until she flicks hair over her shoulder, blows a kiss to Dean, and makes her way to the other end of the pasture.

“Oh my god,” Castiel says under his breath the moment Anna is out of earshot.

Dean has already knelt down and started working on the fence again. He looks up at Castiel, his face an odd mix of emotions. “What?”

“ _You’re_ Winchester? How did I not know this?”

“Well, Cas, you never really asked for my last name, so-”

“Dean. Wait. This is serious now.” Castiel pulls his sunglasses off the top of his head and uses them to point at Dean. “I’m about a hundred percent sure Anna wants back in your pants.” Dean flushes bright red at this statement. “But you know she’s a monster, right? No matter what you do, you can’t sleep with my cousin again, cause that means she’s won, and-”

“Cas,” Dean interrupts, still blushing. He fiddles with the wire cutters, head ducked so he doesn’t have to meet Castiel’s eyes. “Can we… not talk about this? Please? I- listen, I’m sure it was probably Gabriel who told you, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but… what happened with Anna was a mistake on my part and I’d really just like to forget about it.”

Castiel snaps his mouth shut about halfway through Dean’s speech. He bites his lip and sheepishly sinks down into the grass. “I apologize. I overstepped my boundaries.”

Dean settles his gaze on Castiel. The look in his eyes is more calculating than Castiel has seen it before. He meets it readily. They hold each other’s eyes until Dean shakes his head with a chuckle.

“She wears green every time she tries to impress me.”

“Why?”

“I think she thinks it’s my favorite color.”

“So what is your favorite color?”

“… Blue. Not really very bright and not too dark, but more like… well. I dunno.” He hangs his head for a moment, then peers up at Castiel through his eyelashes. Castiel can’t help but smile for some reason.

“Mine is yellow,” he says slowly, trying to shake off the inexplicable nerves he has over such an insignificant confession.

“Yellow? I would have guessed red. ‘Cause of the sunglasses.”

“Nope. Yellow. Like bees.”

Dean grins as he twists a section of barbed wire around the fence post. “You know, Cas, every time I think I have a handle on you, I learn something new. You seriously like bees?”

“Of course. They are very sweet insects, and they share their honey if you’re respectful.”

“You should visit Cain sometime. He lives on the other side of the river, and he’s kinda terrifying, but he’s cool. After his wife Collette died, he started keeping bees. Sometimes he sells honey at the farmer’s market.”

“I didn’t know there was even a river around here.”

Dean nods. He pulls his leather gloves off and stuffs them in the toolbox. “It’s not too far from the Campbell place, actually. Maybe a half mile south? S’good for swimming in.”

Castiel watches as Dean settles down a few feet away and stretches his legs out. The heavy work boots suddenly seem excessive in the heat. Castiel nudges one with his toe. Dean kicks back, careful not to hurt Castiel’s bare foot.

“I bet Anna’s gone by now,” Castiel says eventually. “You could get a glass of water safely before you leave, if you wanted.”

“Yeah, what the hell. Why not?”

They push to their feet simultaneously, but Castiel manages to grab the handle of the toolbox first. He grunts when he tries to lift it. When Dean chuckles, Castiel flips him off and hefts the toolbox into his arms.

“Jesus,” he huffs, “What do you keep in this thing?”

“Tools. You really don’t have to carry that.”

Dean starts to motion for the box, but Castiel steps out of his reach.

“I got it! I don’t need help.”

Dean rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, macho man. I won’t offer again. You sure, though? You don’t look like you’ve done a day of hard work in your life.”

Castiel shoots him a cold glare. “If I had a free hand, I’d flip you off again. I’ve worked at the local clinic for the past three years.”

“Not saying that isn’t hard work, Cas, I’m not. But it’s a different kind of work. You don’t lug around twenty-pound toolboxes every day. They’re a little awkward to carry when you’re not used to them.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel puffs, his footsteps faltering as they climb the small hill.

When they reach the top, Castiel has to squint in the sunshine. Dean reaches over to lower his sunglasses for him. They make their way to the front of the pasture slowly. Dean opens the gate to let Castiel through, then locks it behind them. Castiel doesn’t allow Dean to take the toolbox until they’ve reached the ruck. There, he sets it in the bed of the ruck and turns to face Castiel, who leads him back towards the house.

They enter through the side door, directly into the kitchen. Castiel grabs two glasses from the cupboard. He pulls a pitcher of filtered water from the refrigerator and Dean snorts. Castiel looks over his shoulder at him as he fills the glasses.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… I should have known it wouldn’t be tap water.”

Castiel grins as he turns around. He hands one glass to Dean and puts on an airy face accent. “Now, Mr. Winchester, you can’t possibly think so lowly of me that I would give you unfiltered water. That’s absolutely preposterous!”

Dean nearly chokes on his water while trying to stifle a laugh. “Please tell me that’s not what we sound like to you.”

Castiel shrugs and returns the pitcher to the fridge. “Only sometimes. It’s definitely what my mother things, though. As if she wasn’t raised here.”

Dean watches as Castiel drinks half of his own water in one go. He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “So your mom is a Milton, then? For some reason I always imagined that it was your dad.”

Castiel shudders. “God, no. If you think the Miltons are bad now, try to imagine them a thousand times worse. That’s the Novaks. Really, it’s no wonder my parents got married. They’re both horrible people.”

“Is that why you’re here, then? Lesser of two evils for the summer?”

Castiel bites the inside of his cheek. The familiar wash of shame and anxiety settles into his gut when he thinks about his last conversation with his parents. He shrugs and turns his back to Dean so he can place his empty glass in the sink.  
“I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

He gathers himself and turns back around with a cheery expression. The look on Dean’s face says he doesn’t buy it. Thankfully, Dean drops the subject.

“Hey, before I head out, do you think I could see that lizard?”

Castiel freezes in place and stares at him unabashedly. “You… you want to meet Ruth?”

Dean shrugs like he’s suddenly self-conscious. “I mean. If you’re okay with that. And Ruth, of course, nothing she doesn’t want.”

Castiel breaks into a brilliant smile before he can help himself. “Sorry, it’s just… I’m not used to anyone asking. But yeah, sure you can meet her. Come on, she’s up in my room.”

Castiel takes Dean’s empty water glass and sets it beside his own in the sink. They leave the kitchen through a swinging door into the dining room. From there, Castiel leads him to the front entryway and up the stairs.

“I really should have you take your boots off,” he remarks, casting a glance back at Dean, “but I really don’t care all that much about Naomi’s floors.”

When they reach Castiel’s bedroom door, he instructs Dean to close the door and sit on the floor beside the bed. While he does so, Castiel makes his way to the large glass tank on his bedside table. He sets his sunglasses beside the terrarium and lifts the lid off. Ruth pokes her head out from under her favorite log and Castiel reaches down to stroke the top of her head. He picks her up slowly, careful to support her back, and kisses her nose.

“Hi, Ruthie,” he coos. “Did you have a nice nap?”

Ruth flicks her tongue. Castiel shifts her so he has a free hand to scratch under her chin with.

“There’s someone here to meet you. Ruthie, this is my friend Dean.”

Castiel walks a few steps and sits cross-legged beside Dean. The green-eyed man seems apprehensive, but he offers a smile to the skink.

“Uh… hey, Ruth. Nice to meet you.”

“She won’t bite,” Castiel says. He takes Dean’s wrist and guides his hand over to Ruth’s back. Dean’s eyes widen as he runs his fingers over her scales.

“She feels like corn on the cob!”

Castiel bursts out laughing. Dean’s freckled cheeks flush. Ruth crawls out of Castiel’s hands and onto his thigh so he can lean over to investigate Dean’s knee. Castiel squeezes Dean’s forearm and releases him once he’s composed himself.

“I apologize, Dean. Truly, I didn’t mean to laugh. I’ve just never heard someone describe Ruth as feeling like corn. It’s not inaccurate, though.”

Dean tentatively reaches for Ruth again. She stares at his had as it approaches her, then licks his fingers. He handles it with grace, barely flinching away from the unexpected contact. Before long, Ruth has made her way into Dean’s lap and is having a staring contest with his AC/DC shirt. Dean’s smile is hesitant, but genuine. Castiel can’t hold back his grin when Dean scratches under the skink’s chin.

“She’s kinda sweet. How come you named her Ruth?”

Castiel shrugs and leans his back against the bed. “Well, I never really thought much about it. I suppose it could be because I always admired Ruth. Her story was my favorite from the Bible.”

“I knew your cousins were religious, but I didn’t peg you as the type.”

“Oh, I’m not. I was raised in the church, but I wasn’t interested in faith. It puzzles me why people trust something they can’t see. That’s the only interesting part, really. I enjoy studying the anthropology of religion because of the way people choose to believe in their deities.”

“Makes sense. My dad only ever took Sammy and me to church on Christmas and Easter. We stopped doing that after a while, too.”

“Naomi forced me into accompanying them my first Sunday here. I haven’t gone since. Anyway, Ruth was this woman who married a foreigner, and after he died she stayed with his widowed mother. She moved to a new country with a totally different culture just to help her mother-in-law. I always thought she was crazy, but brave. Strong, too.”

Dean absently pets Ruth, not noticing as she curls against his other arm. “I never knew that. Is this Ruth just as crazy and strong?”

Castiel ponders the question and finally nods. “She’s definitely crazy and brave. Far stronger than I am. She’s gotten me through a lot of shit. Most of the time, it’s Ruthie and I versus the world.”

“How long have you had her?”

“About two and a half years. Or… no, a bit longer. Almost three. I bought her after my sixteenth birthday.”

“What, no car?”

Castiel gives a derisive snort. “Father chose the car and Mother purchased it. They couldn’t be bothered to visit me at school, so they hired someone to deliver it to me. I came home for my next break with Ruthie in tow.”

“So you just bout a lizard without telling anyone?”

“Well. Yes, I suppose I did.”

Dean chuckles. “Man, that shit wouldn’t fly at home. Sam found this puppy once, tried to bring it home. Dad actually thought about letting him keep it for all of an hour. And then it peed on his work uniform.”

Castiel watches Dean play with Ruth for a few more minutes, then sighs. Dean looks at him quizzically, though he’s still sporting a smile like he’s been pleasantly surprised by Ruth.

“What’s up, California?”

“It’s nice to see someone treating Ruth well. Usually people are too afraid of her to even give her a chance. It’ll be a little disappointing when I take her back home.”

“What if you didn’t?”

“What if I didn’t what?”

“Take her home. I mean- don’t leave her behind, of course not that. But what if you didn’t go back to California?”

“I don’t understand. I start school at the end of August, I have to go back.”

Dean frowns down at his lap. Ruth flicks her tongue at him and rests her chin against his wrist. He remains silent for far longer than Castiel had anticipated he would. When he speaks again, his words are slow and deliberate.

“I get that you’ve had this plan pretty much your whole life, but… whenever you talk about the end of the summer and going back to California, starting med school at Stanford… it just seems like your heart isn’t in it. You look miserable when you talk about being a doctor. I think it’s more your parent’s plan than it is yours.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Stay in Kansas?”

Dean flinches. Castiel would feel ashamed of the scorn in his voice if not for the flash of anger and anxiety that’s overtaken him.

“Why is that such a ridiculous suggestion, Cas?”

“Oh my god. Are you really asking me that? You’ve met my aunt and cousins. The reason we even met is because Anna’s friend groped me and tried to drag my name through the mud thirty seconds later.”

“I didn’t say you should keep living here. We could find somewhere for you to stay.”

“With you?”

“… No. You don’t- with Ellen, maybe, or Jody. Hell, even Bobby would be great for you to stay with.”

“Dean, Ellen and Jody both have families they need to care for, and Bobby lives in a junkyard forty-five minutes from Lawrence.”

“Okay so those were bad examples. Whatever. I just- you know, I thought you might want to do something with your life that your parents didn’t force you to do.”

“So I can’t make my own decisions, now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! You could at least consider staying here for a while.”

“And how am I supposed to manage that? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s a little late to apply to a university, if I could even find one with a proper program. Not to mention, if I stay here, my parents won’t help me pay for school. I can’t make a living without their financial assistance, not yet, and I would have to find myself a house and a job and… Dean, it’s just not realistic.”

The tips of Dean’s ears are pink. He won’t meet Castiel’s eye. “I know. Forget it, okay? It was just a thought.”

Castiel feels his frustration dissipate. Immediately, he feels tired and guilty, like his energy has been drained by the argument. He clears his throat awkwardly.

“I… I apologize. I shouldn’t have gotten upset.”

Dean gives a half-hearted shrug. “S’your life, you have every right to be upset. I can’t just butt into it.”

“… You’re right. You are my friend, though, and I need to listen to what you have to say.”

Silence falls between the two young men once again. Ruth seems to have fallen asleep on Dean’s lap, curled between his hip and where he’s resting his arm. Yet again, Dean is the one to speak first.

“We should do something tonight.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said there was nothing to do around here.”

Dean points a finger at him and dons a fake serious expression. “False. That was Jo, and she only said it because she’s bitter that her mom’s bar is the most fun place to be.”

“Is that why you take me to the Roadhouse every Thursday night? And sometimes on Sunday?”

“… Maybe.”

“We’ve had dinner with your friends six times in the past three weeks.”

“That’s what I’m saying. We hang out in groups and spend money on Ellen. We should do something we don’t have to pay for, just the two of us.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure. Did you have anything in mind?”

Dean’s expression falls. “Huh. Didn’t think that far ahead, actually. Uh… wait, you said you haven’t been to the river! Let’s go swimming. We can stay the night in the Campbell barn after, it’s just a short walk.”

Castiel pulls his lower lip between his teeth and worries it while he thinks. “Okay… Yeah, sure. But whatever happens, you have to promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t laugh.”

“At what?”

“I don’t swim often, so I- I don’t… you can’t laugh at my nonexistent tan.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m just sayin’, man, it’s weird. Why is that the only jacket you brought?”

Castiel glances down at his tan trench coat. It’s tied shut around his waist, though the collar is flopping open because he hasn’t done up any of the buttons. The midday sun it hot, but Castiel had still chosen to wrap himself in the trench coat after he’d changed into swim trunks. They’ve rolled the windows of Dean’s truck down to allow the wind to ruffle their hair as they drive.

“I still don’t understand what’s so bad about it. It’s just a coat. I admit, I didn’t think through this particular decision when I was packing. But it’s coming in handy today.”

“Honest to god, Cas, you look like a flasher.”

“Hmm. I wasn’t aware you had flashers in BFE Kansas.”

Tires crunch on gravel as Dean slows and pulls into a driveway half hidden by overgrown grass and trees. He rolls his eyes.

“Not in a few years. Maybe you could start a new trend.”

Castiel snorts. He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again the moment he catches sight of Dean’s house. It’s a modest two-story building- not large, but not small. It’s painted a light green- the porch railing and shutters are an off-white color, like they haven’t been cleaned in a few years. Though there are no bushes or flowers to spruce things up, the lawn looks well-maintained and free of weeds. An old tire swing hangs from the lowest branch of a towering oak tree in the front yard. The driveway dead-ends in front of a one-car garage that seems more like a pole barn than anything else. A pane of glass in the door is broken.

Dean parks his truck alongside the garage instead of in front of it. He doesn’t bother rolling up his window before he hops out. Castiel follows after a brief hesitation. Dean has made it to the front door already when an idea pops into Castiel’s head.

“Hey, Dean,” he calls. “You wanna buy a watch?”

As Dean turns to face him, Castiel whips open the front of his trench coat. He’s barefoot, wearing only a pair of red swim trunks underneath. Both young men dissolve into uproarious laughter.

“What the hell did I just witness?”

Castiel clams up immediately at the sound of a new voice. He draws his coat back closed around his chest. Dean keeps giggling hysterically as Dean turns to face the owner of the voice. He finds a lanky boy with floppy brown hair and hazel eyes. Castiel clears his throat, playing with the sleeves of his coat awkwardly.

“Uh. Hello.”

The boy crosses his arms over his chest. “Hey. You Cas?”

“Um. Yes. Yes, I’m Castiel. You must be Sam.”

Castiel hears Dean pull himself together and bound down the porch steps. His hand ghosts over Castiel’s back as he passes. “What are you doing home, Sammy? I thought you were going to the library with Eileen.”

“Yeah, we… we went this morning. Her grandma gave me a ride home. My bike tire was flat.”

Dean gives an exaggerated shudder. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Sam is eyeing Castiel suspiciously. “Dude, Eileen’s grandma gives me the creeps. I swear she wants to take me home and make me into a sweater.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. You just think she’s flirting with you because she calls you cute and pinches your cheeks.”

“She came close to grabbing my ass once.”

“So you’ve said. Just don’t be a jerk next time she picks me up.”

“Don’t be a bitch.”

Sam halfheartedly smacks at Dean. In turn, Dean kicks at Sam. The two brothers scuffle for a moment, grunting curses at each other. Castiel looks on with wide eyes until Dean pulls away, panting from the effort of wrestling with his brother.

“You’re so freakishly large, dude. Unfair advantage.”

Sam grins breathlessly. He shoves Dean’s shoulder. Dean slaps his hand away. “What are you up to, anyway?”

“Cas and me were gonna go to the river. Mr. California Man here hasn’t been down yet.”

“Weren’t you working with Bobby today?”

“Nah. Ironsides made me take the day off, so I headed over to Eden’s Creek and fixed that fence Naomi called about last week.”

“Huh. Hey, have you heard from Dad yet? I know he was gone before you got back last night, but he was working a twelve. He shoulda been back sometime this morning.”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m sure Jody or Donna would have called if he was causing trouble. Bet you anything he’s just harassing Ellen for another round of whiskey.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. If he’s not home in a couple hours, he-”

“Don’t. Sam, don’t. He’ll be home by dinner.”

“What if he isn’t?”

“Ride your bike over to Gramps and Grandma Deanna’s place. If he isn’t home by then, keep quiet. Lock your door before you sleep if he’s still not back. You know the drill, Sam.”

“Wait. You’re not coming back tonight?”

“No. Now go fix your bike or whatever it was you were doing.”

Sam pulls a face as Dean ruffles his hair. He pushes at his brother as he steps away, but they’re both grinning. Sam belatedly remembers to wave at Castiel. He disappears around the side of the house, and Cas follows Dean inside.

Dean’s bedroom is on the second floor. It is small, but immaculately clean. Castiel takes a seat on the bed and watches Dean pack a small duffel back until a small photo propped against the desk lamp catches his eye. He picks it up carefully, noting how wrinkled and worn it is.

The woman in the photograph has her arms wrapped around a little boy with dirty blonde hair. The woman’s face is kind, he expression soft. They’re both smiling the same goofy grin, as if they were getting into mischief together.

“Is this your mother?”

Dean glances up from what he’s doing. He comes to sit beside Castiel on the edge of the bed. When he leans closer to look at the picture, Castiel can feel their arms brush against each other.

“Yeah. We took that just a couple weeks before Sammy was born, according to the date on the back of it.”

“She’s beautiful.”

The atmosphere now is more muted than any conversation they’ve ever had. Finally, Dean says, “Her name was Mary.”

Castiel speaks quietly, as if he’s afraid he’ll startle Dean. “You have her eyes, you know. And her smile.”

“You would have loved her, Cas. She cared so much about everyone she met. She couldn’t cook to save her life, but she made the best pies. And she loved to garden. This place used to be overrun with her flowerbeds. She and my Grandma Deanna could talk about flowers for days.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“… Seven. Sammy was three. It was… It was a barn fire not too long after his birthday. A month, maybe? We got some wet hay up in the loft, and then it just… happened. Dad took it real hard. Couldn’t even stand the sight of me and Sam for a while. I think we just reminded him of her.”

“I can’t image it was easy for any of you.”

“Sam was so young, he really doesn’t remember all that much. I still remember the flames, though. The whole barn burnt down. She was trapped in there.”

“Is that when- when your father…?”

“Probably. I can’t remember him not drinking, but. Well, y’know. It got worse, after.”

They sit in silence, and Castiel has to resist the urge to press closer to Dean, though he’s not sure why he wants to. It’s been a strange day, and it’s not even over yet. Dean traces his thumb over the edge of the photo. He draws a deep breath.

“I wanted to be a firefighter after she died. Until Ellen had us over for a bonfire later that summer, at least. I had to stay inside the whole time. I, uh… I couldn’t look at the flames.”

“What did you want to be before that?”

“Policeman. I wanted to be an officer just like my dad.”

“So why didn’t you do that?”

“Trust me, Cas. It’s better if I try my hardest not to take after him.”

Dean gives a wry smile. Castiel meets his gaze solemnly. The moment hovers between them, oddly charged. It isn’t until Dean pulls away to stand up that Castiel realizes they’d both been leaning in.

“Well, I got pretty much everything we’ll need. Want to grab some food and set out?”

Castiel nods. He places the photo back against the desk lamp and stands as Dean shoulders the duffel bag. They traipse back down the stairs side-by-side. In the kitchen, Dean makes Castiel sit at the table while he fills a cooler with bottles of water and snacks. Seemingly as an afterthought, he stuffs in a couple of beers as well. Castiel raises an eyebrow and Dean winks mischievously.

When they return to the truck, Dean tosses both the cooler and the duffel back into the bed with Castiel’s knapsack. He’s about to hop into the cab when he catches sight of Sam wheeling his bike towards the garage.

“Hey, Cas? Do you mind waiting here for a sec? I’ll be right back.”

Before Castiel can respond, Dean jogs away. Castiel bites the inside of his cheek, watching from the passenger seat as the two brothers converse. He notices that Sam is slightly taller than Dean, who is talking with his hands again.

Sam seems terse, his hands tight on the handlebars of his bike. Unlike Dean, he does not move his hands while speaking. He shakes his head and says something that makes Dean pause. Whatever the brothers are talking about, neither of them is happy. Sam’s expression is one of concern. Castiel can’t see Dean’s face, but he’s obviously dismissing what Sam is trying to say. After a while, Sam’s shoulders slump. He shrugs. Dean lays a hand on his brother’s arm. After a moment, he pats it and turns to jog back to the truck.

“Dean!” Sam shouts. He hesitates when he sees Castiel is watching, then turns his attention back to his brother. “I’m serious, man. You’re in deep. Just… don’t get yourself hurt, okay?”

Dean hovers beside his door after Sam calls out to him. Finally, he lifts his hand in a wave and ducks into the cab of the truck. He doesn’t talk while he starts the truck and backs down the driveway. Castiel remains silent until they’re back on the road. It’s then that his curiosity gets the better of him.

“Is everything alright, Dean?”

Dean looks over at him with a confused frown. He has one hand on the wheel- the other rests on the bench seat between them. “Yeah, man. Why, what’s up?”

“Well, Sam seemed… not upset, per se, but-”

“It’s nothing,” Dean interrupts. “Nothing’s wrong. Sammy’s just trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Okay. I will let the subject rest, then, before I accidentally ‘stick my nose’ in your business.”

Castiel does air quotes as he concedes the conversation. Dean’s face looks like he’s trying not to laugh. He mumbles a ‘thanks, man’ a moment later, then turns his focus back to the road. Castiel reaches forward to turn up the radio dial. He catches an approving smile on Dean’s lips out of the corner of his eye as he sits back.

 

The drive from the Winchester’s house to the Campbell barn is about twenty minutes of dusty gravel roads. Neither Dean nor Castiel speak, but their comfortable silence is filled by Def Leppard playing from the radio. Castiel’s attention perks up when Dean slows the trunk and they turn onto a two-track that’s even more overgrown than the entrance of Dean’s driveway. Dean pulls the truck up to a wooden gate that’s in much better shape than Castiel would have expected. They park and hop out.

“I can’t believe I’ve never driven here with you. Is this how you sneak up on me all the time?”

Dean smirks. “I can’t tell you that. If I do, you’ll start getting me with more of that creepy ‘Hello, Dean’ shit. I mean, come on. I scare you because you’re off in your own world. Whenever you get me, it’s for your own amusement.”

Castiel grins as he pulls his knapsack out of the bed of the truck. Dean grabs the duffel bag and cooler. They traipse around the gate to find the other side of the two-track covered in weeds. Dean leads Castiel on a path through the underbrush to the clearing with the barn.

“How do you know about all these paths, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me how to get here on that trail at the intersection. And then there were those other two we hiked, to the foundations of the original house and the original house and the hunting blind. Now this two-track.”

“The Campbells were my grandparents. This was their place. Wait, did I never tell you that?”

“No, you uh… failed to bring that to my attention. So where are they now if the house is torn down?”

“Dead.”

“Oh. Um. I-”

“Hey, Cas, don’t sweat it. My fault for not telling you, right? It’s not a big deal, though. My Grandma Deanna had cancer. She was gone not long after Mom, actually. Gramps made it a little longer. He was pretty old and Donna was tired of coming out to answer his calls about a raccoon mafia, plus the house was in pretty rough shape. We got him into a home and tore down the house here ‘bout two weeks later. Old codger survived another eight years after that.”

Castiel does some quick math in his head and pulls open the barn door. “That would have been recent, wouldn’t it?”

“Last January, yeah. But I mean, he was an intense dude. Had a ton of stuff in common with my dad, but they hated each others guts. They always fought about my mom.”

They climb the stairs to the hayloft and set their bags beside the hay bale at the loft door. Dean tosses a towel at Castiel’s face.

“I gotta put on my trunks. Why don’t you head back down and wait for me? Also, do me a favor and lose the coat. C’mon, man, no more California Flasher.”

Castiel sticks his tongue out at Dean, but he shrugs the trench coat off and drops it beside his knapsack. He doesn’t have to wait outside very long before Dean joins him again.

“Okie dokie, Cas, you ready?”

Castiel looks over his shoulder as Dean bounds out of the barn, and for a moment he can’t find his words. Dean is wearing a pair of black swim trunks, and- for the first time since Castiel has met him- no work boots or band t-shirts. He has a definite farmer’s tan. Far more distracting, however, are his muscles. He has nice arms- this, Castiel has known since the day after they met- but Castiel can now see the lines of his abs. They aren’t as defined as his arms. In fact, there’s a little pudge on Dean’s stomach along with them. Castiel forces himself to tear his gaze away. He refuses to be caught staring. Castiel clears his throat.

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” He intends to stop speaking there and follow Dean into the woods silently, but he can’t help himself. “So. You have a tattoo?”

Ahead of him, Dean glances down at his chest and chuckles. “Oh, yeah. Forgot you didn’t know about that. Charlie and I got ours together a couple years back. There’s a whole nerdy story about mine, but Charlie’s is about a billion times nerdier.” He brushes a small branch out of his way and holds it until Castiel is beside him on the trail. “What about you? Do you have any secret ink?”

“No. My parents would never allow it.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“… I do still need to live under their roof for a while.”

Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat and sets off again. Within a couple of minutes, they come out of the woods onto the bank of a small river. On the other side of it is an open field. Dean waves his hand like he’s presenting it.

“Ta-da! Campbell Creek, the finest river around.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Okay, I’m confused. There’s an Old Campbell road and now Campbell Creek? Why is everything about your grandparents?”

Dean shrugs. He tosses his towel on the ground and takes a few steps forward so his toes are in the water. “Mom’s side of the family helped found the town or whatever. I dunno. Gramps never talked about it and history really wasn’t my strong suit in school. Careful when you come in, it’s colder than it looks.”

Castiel makes a face. He gingerly sets his towel beside Dean and steps closer to the stream. The sun is hot, but he’s not sure he wants to deal with cold water. He’s so busy contemplating his next move that he doesn’t see Dean smirk and inch closer.

“You coming in or what?”

“Well, in a moment, I-”

Castiel cuts off with a yelp as Dean grabs him by the waist and throws him into the water. He comes up spluttering a moment later, searching for the bottom with his feet at the same time. When he finds purchase, he’s standing in lightly flowing water up to his chest. Dean is cackling a few feet away, where the water is only at his knees.

“Hey, Dean? What’s your middle name?”

“Johnathan. Why?”

“Dean Johnathan Winchester, you little shit!”

Castiel runs forward and manages to catch Dean off-guard when he tackles him sideways into deeper water. When they surface, Dean’s green eyes are wide and surprised.

“Ohhh,” he sputters, wiping droplets of water from his face. “You’re gonna get it now.”

Castiel lets out a shriek the moment Dean starts moving. He can’t manage to turn and run fast enough, and Dean pulls him out into the center of the river and dunks him. These shenanigans go on until they’re both shivering and gasping for air. Dean calls a truce, and Castiel crows victoriously.

“You know that means I win, right? You surrender, that makes me the winner.”  
He is rewarded with a small wave directly to the face. Dean is smirking not far away. He pulls his hands out of the water and dons an innocent expression.

“Wasn’t me.”

Castiel flips him off.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time they manage to get out of the water and back to the barn, the sun is low in the sky. They’re still dripping when they emerge from the trail into the clearing. Castiel pats his face dry with his towel as they climb the stairs into the hayloft. They both throw on fresh clothing- Dean with jeans and an Aerosmith shirt, Castiel with shorts and a loose tank top- and then get to work.

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to bring around five extra hay bales and a pile of loose chaff. They arrange two of the bales beside the original haybale by the loft door in a sort of semi-circle, then use the remaining three to brace them from behind. The pile of loose chaff is poured on the loft floor in front of the bales. Dean and Castiel drape a large old quilt over the pile of chaff and the front three hay bales. They pad the makeshift bed with extra blankets before settling down onto the quilt and leaning their backs against the covered bales.

Dean hands Castiel a sandwich and an apple. They bump their water bottles together before taking a swig. The two young men eat their dinner as they watch the sun goes down. When the night sounds set in, Castiel sighs. Dean glances over at him curiously, sunset forgotten immediately.

“What’s up, California?”

Castiel rolls his empty water bottle between his hands, listening to the crickets chirp. He bites the inside of his cheek. “You were right, earlier today. About med school.”

Dean frowns, but Castiel doesn’t give him the chance to speak. He leans back against the hay bales and draws his knees to his chest.

“My parents have been telling me for years that when I get to university, I will be studying medicine. They put me to work at the local clinic when I was fifteen. I don’t mind the work- I like helping people- and it’s good money, but… I never saw medicine as something I could do for the rest of my life. Much less gastroenterology or neurosurgery like my parents insist on. I thought if I helped children with cancer, that could make it worthwhile. And I’ve never had anyone telling me that it didn’t fit me or that I don’t have to follow the plan. I didn’t know how to react.”

“It’s your life, Cas. You shouldn’t have to do something you don’t want to do.”

“But I don’t know what I want to do. I never considered it because… well, because I couldn’t.”

“You should get to make a career out of stuff that interests you. Like... art! You’re super great at drawing. And you can play three instruments. Not to mention the whole languages thing. Cas, around here, that’s good enough to get you any art or music job you want. Hell, man, you’re overqualified for pretty much everything in Lawrence. Why don’t you apply for art school?”

Castiel shrugs halfheartedly. “I always thought of art as a hobby. I’m not sure I could handle turning it into a career. I did have a social science teacher once who told me I was adept with historical texts.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “I’ve heard you say a lot of nerdy things since we met, but I can safely say that ‘adept with historical texts’ takes the cake.”

This statement rouses a small smile from Castiel. He’s still hugging his knees, but he turns his head so he can watch the progression of expressions on Dean’s face when he speaks next.

“Why do you care if I’m doing what I want to do in life?”

Dean looks taken aback at first. He opens his mouth, closes it, frowns, and opens it again. “You’re my friend. I care because I want you to be happy. No one has the right to tell you how to live your life except for you.”

Castiel falls silent. He worries his lower lip between his teeth. Dean shifts beside him, and then an arm is around his shoulders. Dean squeezes lightly and rubs Castiel’s arm gently. Castiel feels a knot form in his throat and immediately swallows hard to force it away. He curls himself closer to Dean before he can think better of himself and allows Dean to guide his head onto his shoulder. They sit quietly for a while.

“… Are you happy, Dean?”

A crease appears between Dean’s brows. He purses his lips as he thinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“With your life. You seem concerned with ensuring that I’m happy, and you’re very involved with your friend’s lives. You work hard to support them. But… well, how often do you focus on yourself?”

Dean rests his cheek against the top of Castiel’s head. He shrugs, careful not to jostle the other man. “I dunno. I like my friends, I like my brother, I like my job. Should there be something else?”

“… I think you enjoy helping people too much to only ever work on fixing their cars and fences for the rest of your life.”

“Working with Bobby isn’t so bad. Sometimes I help Ellen out at the Roadhouse, too.”

“You mentioned being both a policeman and a firefighter. I believe you would do excellent at either of those professions, Dean.”

Dean hums in assent, but says nothing. He thinks Castiel has fallen asleep when more than ten minutes pass in silence, but then the young man stirs against Dean’s side.

“Forgive me if this is obtrusive,” he murmurs, one hand resting on Dean’s chest, “but may I ask what you and Sam were discussing at the house?”

“Hmm?”

“About your father, I mean. I apologize, I really shouldn’t ask, but you both seemed worried about each other.”

“Sam wasn’t… Sam’s problem isn’t with Dad. Not this time.”

“Would you rather speak about that than your father?”

“Oh hell no. No, I- no. Sam is just being obnoxious.”

“So why did you tell him to come here?”

Dean draws a deep breath and huffs it out. “There’s this thing about my dad, okay? He… sometimes he doesn’t come home when he’s supposed to and doesn’t give us a heads up first. He, uh- he tends to get… mean, after he finally gets back. Sam and I have plans for when this shit happens.”

Castiel frowns. “Dean, does your fath-”

“Okay, no. I’m sorry, Cas. I thought I could talk about this and I can’t, so can we just sit here instead of talking?”

“Of course.”

 

Castiel wakes the next morning sticky with sweat. The first thing he registers is that he’s wrapped up in someone’s arms. The second: those arms are far too warm for the muggy morning air. He extricates himself from Dean’s embrace slowly, careful not to wake him. Castiel yawns and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Dean stirs beside him, but doesn’t wake up.

They’d sat up talking late into the night, sharing beers and stories that were just light-hearted enough to be personal but not emotional. The night had gotten chilly around 2 am, and Dean had given Castiel a flannel shirt to keep warm. All the same, they were huddled under a blanket together by 3. At five, Castiel had woken up to the sound of light rain on the barn roof.

Apparently the clouds had cleared after the rain had stopped, leaving the day to thoroughly heat up. Now, sunlight is streaming through the trees into the clearing. It makes for a pretty picture, the yellow light dappling on the green leaves. Castiel only has a moment to appreciate the view from the hayloft door before Dean moves again, this time groaning and pushing himself into a sitting position. He blinks blearily at Castiel.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“… Mornin’. What time is it?”

Castiel shrugs, trying not to grin at the obvious sleepiness in Dean’s voice. “I haven’t checked your watch yet. I just woke up as well.”

Dean’s whole face scrunches up as he yawns and attempts looking at his watch at the same time. His shirt and hair are sleep-rumpled. The whole image put together is strangely adorable. Castiel commits it to memory so he can draw it later.

“Hmm. ‘S almost eleven. I should probably get home and check on Sam.”

Castiel nods. “I think Gabriel has today off. He’ll be dying to talk to someone about his daycare kids, and sadly I’m the only one who’ll listen.”

Dean chuckles. He forces himself to his feet and holds out a hand to help Castiel stand. “You want a ride home, or do you wanna tag along with me first?”

Castiel considers it as he shrugs off the flannel and folds it over his arm. “It would use less gas if I were to walk back. Would you like help carrying everything back to your truck before I leave?”

“Nah. Let’s leave it here so we can use it again. I’ll take the cooler, but I think the rest will be fine.”

“Alright. I should go back and feed Ruth, then, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, man. Say hi to her for me. Hey, are you and Gabriel still coming to Ellen’s party on the fourth?”

“I believe so. Though… Gabriel did say something about driving into Lawrence. I will be in attendance no matter his decision, that has been confirmed.”

“Okay, cool.” Dean seems to brighten and then hold back a smile. “Cool.”

The two of them leave the barn together and part ways with a wave. Castiel pauses in the trees and turns back in time to see Dean disappear down the old two-track with the cooler in his hand and the duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Castiel adjusts his knapsack with a small grin and begins his walk back to Eden’s Creek.

This time when he returns, Gabriel isn’t the one waiting for him. Really, no one is waiting for Castiel, but Anna is coming out of one of the barns as he walks up the driveway. The moment she spots her cousin, Anna’s expression sours. She folds her arms across her chest and stalks over to cut off his path to the house.

“Where have you been all night?”

Castiel’s good mood is immediately knocked back a few notches. He shrugs. “I stayed with a friend. Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Anna falls silent for a moment, as if she isn’t sure how to continue what she’s saying. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her face, though her hair is immaculate and her clothes are completely clean. “So. You know Winchester?”

“Uh… I know Dean, yes. I have also met Sam. To which brother are you referring? The one you slept with or the one you’re pretending to tutor?”

“Hm. Sam and I agreed not to meet during the summer. When school starts up in the fall, I will resume working with him twice a week. If you’d like, however, you can pass a message along to Dean for me. He’s really gotten low if he thinks he can get close to me using my dirty cousin. It’s not going to work.”

Anna spins on her heel and leaves Castiel to puzzle over her words as she returns to the barns. He shakes his head a moment later, still thinking about it. Once he’s gotten inside, Castiel pauses in the kitchen to grab an apple and a couple of strawberries before heading upstairs. He walks into his room with the apple in his mouth, tosses his knapsack on the bed, and walks over to Ruth’s tank.

“Hey, Ruthie. How was your night?”

The skink crawls out from under her fake log and flicks her tongue. She seems excited to see that Castiel has come back He lifts the lid off the tank and pulls her out. Ruth rests on his shoulder, sniffing his tank top and neck while he tears the strawberries into small chunks and sets them in her food dish. He places her beside it so she can eat while he showers.

He comes back into the room with only a pair of shorts on half an hour later, rubbing his towel behind his left ear. Gabriel is sitting on his bed, playing with the strap of his knapsack. Castiel stops in the doorway and raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t see you this morning.”

“No, I just got back. I, uh… I went to Lawrence.”

“You’ve been going to Lawrence a lot lately. Is everything okay?”

“I think so, yeah. At the very least, nothing is bad.”

Gabriel watches Castiel cross the room to pull a shirt from his dresser. Castiel can still feel his cousin’s eyes on his back as he tugs it over it head. He turns with a frown.

“What?”

“It’s close to one. You never shower this late in the day. Where were you last night?”

“I stayed the night with Dean.”

Gabriel looks delighted at this turn of events. “No shit. Winchester? Has Anna figured out yet that the two of you are buddy-buddy?”

“I suppose. He fixed the fence in the west pasture yesterday and Anna was being all weird when she came to talk to him. I got back this morning and she said something about me being a ‘dirty cousin’ and how ‘using’ me ‘won’t work’. I’m quite confused.”

“Holy shit,” Gabriel breathes, amused, “I’ve never seen her lose interest in something so fast. Maybe we should have you flirt with all her flings. She’d never have a boytoy again!”

Castiel makes a face. “I don’t flirt. Especially not with Dean, he’s my friend.”

“You’re missing the point here. What you’re saying Anna said, that’s a classic sign of defeat with her. Once, she slept with someone before she learned he was the brother of a girl she hated. She dropped him so fast I’m surprised he didn’t break something. You’re the girl Anna hates, and Winchester Major is your brother.”

“… You lost me.”

“Anna’s going to act like Winchester Major is chasing after her, not the other way around. The fact that he’s friends with you has completely turned her off. This is the best news I’ve ever heard! Except… well, shit. Now I have to find something else to blackmail her with.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. He takes his knapsack from Gabriel so he can empty it into a hamper and throw it on top of the dresser. It isn’t until Gabriel starts fidgeting with the hem of Castiel’s sheets that Castiel realizes he must have had a purpose or coming here.

“What do you need?” he sighs the question, almost afraid of all the possible answers.

“A favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“The kind where you tell my mother that I’m with you even though I’m not. She doesn’t care enough to check up on me, but if she does… yeah.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “When and where?”

“The fourth. At the Roadhouse.”

“So you’re skipping Ellen’s party for sure, then. Are you actually going to Lawrence?”

“Yep. Confirmed it last night.”

“Why are you going to Lawrence so often?”

Gabriel hums indecisively. Castiel glances at his mostly-closed door, then at the open window. Gabriel looks apprehensive. Castiel closes both the window and the door and comes to sit beside his cousin.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Gabe. Just let me know I don’t have to worry and I’ll help you keep doing whatever it is you’re doing without parental interference.”

Gabriel snorts and murmurs ‘parental interference’ before sighing. “… I have a boyfriend.”

“That’s… okay, not what I thought you were going to say. How did I not know about this?”

“Well, you’re always running around with Winchester Major these days, I barely have time to talk to you.”

Castiel looks chastised. “I- I hadn’t thought of that. Gabriel, if I’ve been ignoring you, I promise-”

“Apology both unnecessary and accepted, Cassie. I’m actually glad you made some friends. Especially ones that get you out of the house. And we’re both busy now, so it’s not like you missed much. Auguste and I only made it official last week.”

“You’re staying the night of the fourth with him, then?”

“Yes. But I told Mother I would be with you at the Roadhouse party. Chaperoning. So Aunt Muriel doesn’t freak out.”

“Mother would only care if I somehow managed to find a man to bring home. Oh, but don’t worry- there are no gays in BFE Kansas, and certainly not at Eden’s Creek.”

“Well. You’re right about the Eden’s Creek part. No gays here. Just aces and bis.”  
Castiel rolls his eyes. “In any case, Gabriel, I’m happy for you. You seem content, and I can only assume that it is in part due to this Auguste person.”

“Yeah. Hey, remember when I said I should set you up?”

“I would request yet again that you do not.”

“Don’t think I need to, Cassie. See you at dinner!”

Gabriel pats Castiel’s knee and bolts from the room. Castiel doesn’t even have the chance to open his mouth or formulate a question to ask about what his cousin means. Castiel looks quizzically at Ruth. She flicks her tongue and turns away from him. He groans.

“You won’t tell me what he means either?!”


	8. Chapter 8

Despite both his cousin and his skink speaking in riddles, the next two days pass uneventfully for Castiel. Other than a few conversations with Gabriel about the daycare children, Castiel spends most of his time alone. He sees Dean only once, briefly, and then the night of the fourth is upon them.

At Gabriel’s- unexplained and sudden- request, Castiel wears his raspberry shorts with a loose-fitting blue and white striped tank top. He starts to smooth his hair down but gives up after only a few minutes. It doesn’t take long for Gabriel to ruffle it again, anyhow.

Castiel fills Ruth’s water dish and presses a kiss to the top of her head just before Gabriel practically drags him down the stairs and out of the house. Gabriel shouts a goodbye as the door slams behind them. There isn’t an answer.

Castiel lowers his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose as they pull out of Eden’s Creek. “You seem like you’re in a hurry.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to get to the other side of Lawrence and I’d like to do it sooner rather than later.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. That smile fades by the time they pull into the parking lot of the Roadhouse. His palms aren’t sweating, but he feels like they should be. Castiel barely has time to cast a worried glance at Gabriel before his door is flung open.

“Hi, Cas! Dean isn’t here yet. Thanks, Gabriel!”

And Charlie hauls Castiel from the car before he’s had time to process what she’s said. She pulls him through the packed parking lot and around to the back of the Roadhouse, not inside of it. Her urgency makes it seem like someone is waiting for them, but when they round the corner, no one else is behind the bar.

“Charlie, what-”

“Don’t worry about it. Ooh, and I love those shorts. They’re perfect.”

“Um. Thank you. Perfect for what?”

Charlie beams and pats his cheek. “Oh, nothing. You’re so sweet. Hey, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. Charl-”

“What about a girlfriend?”

“What? No. Charlie, why-”

“Do you like anyone?”

“What is happening here?!”

“… Nothing.”

Charlie seems a little put out that Castiel didn’t answer her question, but she’s also acting cagey. She keeps glancing around them like she’s expecting someone. Castiel frowns. He’s about to ask again when Jo appears. Charlie lights up.

“Jo! Did you get it?”

“Almost. He as good as admitted it, but not in so many words. You’ll get it for sure.”

“Excellent. Little headway on this front, so good luck.”

Charlie bounds away and out of sight. This sudden departure leaves Castiel, still extremely confused, with Jo. He glances at her and she shrugs.

“Don’t ask me, I have no answers. This is all Charlie’s doing. She had a little help from Aaron, maybe? Most of us just got recruited this afternoon.”

“Recruited for what?”

“If I remember right, she called it Operation Destiny.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Me neither. She didn’t really explain.” Jo grins, obviously amused by her friend’s behavior. Castiel can’t tell if she’s lying about Operation Destiny or not. “Hey, are you good with math or story telling?”

“Uh. They aren’t exactly synonymous. I suppose math could be considered one of my strengths, though. Why?”

“Charlie had me help her with a campaign for her D’n’D club. Not our high school one, it’s only Garth in this one with her, and some kids from Lawrence. They’re meganerds. But I got curious about how accurate it was.”

“I was under the impression that there is nothing realistic about tabletop gaming campaigns. I haven’t ever played. I really am not a good person to ask about this, Jo.”

“I guess. It’s not even important, but I thought maybe it could get answered with statistics. Don’t sweat it.”

“I could give it a go if you really wanted me to.”

Jo laughs and shakes her head. “No, don’t. I’m thinking too much into the chances of a lesbian orc and a gay dwarf finding a harem of bisexual elves.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, trying not to chuckle. “I suppose that is quite an extraordinary situation. She wrote that into the game?”

“Proposed it to be written in. Then we debated about the how and why for a while. Charlie ended up making a good point about how the queer community tends to come together naturally. I think she was still overruled, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, take a look at our group. Charlie is the nerdiest lesbian you’ll ever meet, seconded only by Dorothy. Ash is aromantic, Garth is asexual, Aaron is demi, and Benny is gay.”

Castiel falls quiet for a moment. “What about you and Dean?”

“I’ve never really thought much about it. And as for Dean, his life is his to talk about. Not my place to tell his secrets.”

“I- um. Nevermind. I didn’t know that about any of you. Except Charlie and Dorothy, I mean. Thank you for trusting me with this. It’s… I’ve never had friends to talk about these things with.”

“Okay, my turn to ask what you mean by that.”

Castiel shrugs. “I have very religious parents and I was raised in rather close-minded communities. I never considered the possibility that I wasn’t heterosexual because… well, I couldn’t. I certainly couldn’t talk about it.”

Jo stays quiet a moment longer. She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the building. “I hope I’m not, like, pushing too hard or something. But if you don’t mind me asking… are you straight?”

“Oh, no. No, not at all. I just… I tend not to openly share that fact wherever I go. You know how my family is, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Gabriel is pretty cool, though. Wasn’t he coming with you tonight?”

“No, he’s just using me as an excuse to not attend my aunt’s dinner party.”

Jo snorts. “A dinner party? It’s the fourth of July! What about fireworks?”

“I’m sure they’ll be asleep by then.”

The sound of footsteps draws both of their attention to the side of the building. Dean rounds the corner, wearing jeans and work boots as always. Today’s t-shirt is Metallica’s ‘… And Justice For All’. Castiel beams when he sees Dean, whose ears turn pink. Jo excuses herself politely. Castiel hears her giggle at the corner, where she looks over her shoulder with a faux serious expression.

She lowers her voice and says, “Thank you for trusting me with this,” then bursts into a fit of giggles again and disappears.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Hey, Cas. What was that all about?”

“Hello, Dean. Jo and I had a rather nice conversation. Though I do believe that last statement was meant to mock me. I thought Charlie said you weren’t here?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why. I’ve been here for hours. I came this afternoon to help set everything up. I guess you haven’t been inside yet, though.”

“No, Charlie dragged me back here as soon as Gabriel dropped me off.”

“She didn’t mess with the fireworks, did she?”

“… Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good. Last year she snatched a couple and tried to set them off from the roof. Ellen was pissed that she didn’t think of doing that, before Officer Henrikson told her it was a fire hazard.”

Castiel smiles. “That sounds like Ellen. Though I am surprised Ash never tried it.”

“Oh, he did. Not even two hours later, actually. Just about fell of the roof. Ellen chewed him out like there was no tomorrow. If he were her son and not a grown man, she probably woulda gave him the ass-whoopin’ of a lifetime.”

“That, too, sounds like Ellen.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Speaking of which, we should head inside. If she finds out we skipped her party to stand in the back yard, she’ll be pissed.”

The two young men push away from the building simultaneously and make their way back to the parking lot. It’s packed with cars. Castiel doesn’t realize he’s automatically gone tense until Dean nudges his shoulder.

“It’s just a party. You know these people.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “The last even I attended that had this many guests was a black tie affair. I don’t expect this to be at all similar. I have no idea what I’m about to walk into.”

Dean pauses with his hand on the wooden door of the Roadhouse. He thinks a moment and gives a wolfish grin. “Chaos.”

 

Dean is right to call the party chaos. It seems that everyone in town who is not part of the Milton’s social circle has crowded into the dimly lit bar. Instead of clearing out after dinner, the families and lingering and more are accumulating. The children get rowdier as the night goes on, and the adults watch from afar instead of quieting them. At one point, Castiel is pulled into a game of cards with Charlie, Alex, Claire, and a few other children. Ellen interrupts frequently to ask if the girls have had enough food and aren’t causing trouble.

Donna stops by around 9:30 to check on her daughters, though she claims she’s there to make sure the party isn’t getting out of hand. She winks at Dean when she notices his beer and covers her badge with one hand when he hands her a powdered donut. She eats it quickly, presses a finger to her lips, and walks away with a little bit of white powder still stuck at the corner of her mouth.

By the time another hour has passed, the entire bar is reverberating with anticipation. Ellen ushers everyone outside to the backyard. Clumps of people form as blankets are laid down and the party migrates outdoors. Music is blasting form several portable speakers. 

While Charlie and Jo are distracted, Dean says something under his breath to Garth that Castiel doesn’t catch. Garth casts a glance over at where Charlie is standing, bites his lip, and nods. Dean claps the mousey teen on the shoulder before taking hold of Castiel’s wrist and pulling him gently away from the crowd.

They manage to extricate themselves from the party horde with little effort and make their way to where Dean’s truck is parked. The bed has been piled high with blankets and pillows to cushion it. Dean waits for Castiel to climb up before hopping in as well. They settle into the pile of bedding and nestle comfortably against the end of the bed so they’re propped in an almost sitting position.

“Who did all this?”

“Charlie. We used to watch the fireworks together like this every year, until we added in Sam and Ash and a few other people and the group got too big to fit in the back of a truck. Plus, Dad started working on the fourth after I turned twelve or so, which kinda screwed up the whole truck part anyway. But I got the truck back and Charlie set this up so we could watch the fireworks. She’s with Dorothy tonight, but you’re here now. A new tradition, maybe?”

Castiel feels a smile tug at his lips. “That’s thoughtful of her. I’m not sure I’ll still be visiting Kansas this time next year, though.”

“You’ve got friends here now, Cas. You sure you’re never coming back?”

“… I might, if Gabriel moves to Lawrence. I would come see him. A stop here at the Roadhouse wouldn’t be terrible, even if it is a little out of the way.”

Dean frowns. “Out of the way? Dude, Lawrence isn’t all that far. Haven’t you taken a trip in yet?”

“No.”

“Well, I gotta pick up some new strings for my guitar. You should tag along to the music store.”

Their conversation is cut off by a flash of light and a loud boom. Castiel flinches in surprise, but is prepared for the second explosion. The muffled sound of music dies off by the third round of explosions. Castiel scoots closer to Dean without giving it much thought. He turns to ask Dean a question only a few minutes later, but is left speechless at what he sees.

Dean’s lips are frozen in a small, awed smile, jaw just slack enough that his mouth hangs slightly open. The fireworks are reflected in his green eyes. Each flash lights up his face with different colors. His freckles look like starts caught up in brilliant nebulas each time.

Castiel loses track of time. It’s only when Dean glances over and they lock eyes that he realizes he’s been staring. Even then, he can’t look away. Dean’s mouth snaps shut. Castiel feels his Adam’s apple bob as he tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. Dean’s hand is calloused, but gentle and warm as it ghosts against Castiel’s cheek and comes to rest on his jaw, just beneath his ear.

His heartbeat thuds in his ears- it drowns out the noise of the fireworks. Dean’s expression is tender. He brushes his thumb over Castiel’s cheekbone. Castiel can feel his skin flush in response. It feels like his head is swimming. His chest is tight, it’s hard to breath. And Dean is close, so close. When did either of them move?

The heat of their breath mingles between them. Castiel’s stomach flip flops. He jerks away suddenly, hot shame crawling on his skin. He stammers an apology- or, at least, he thinks he does- and scrambles out of the pickup bed so he can make a beeline for the Roadhouse.

The bar is empty when Castiel shoves his way in, and he thanks every deity that might be listening for that fact. The bathroom feels claustrophobic despite Castiel being its only occupant. His breathing sounds harsh in his ears and his hands are shaking. He splashes cold water on his face and grips the edges of the sink to steady himself. Eventually, he registers the sound of timid knocking.

“Cas? Castiel, you in there?”

He squeezes his eyes shut when he realizes it’s Dean and draws a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

Castiel stares at his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes seem too bright against pink cheeks. His sunglasses are pushed up on top of his head and his tank top is wrinkled. He lets out his breath slowly. 

“… Yes.”

Dean steps out of the way as Castiel opens the door moments later. His brows are pinched together in concern and he places a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Um. No, actually. I feel a little ill.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No! No, we need to stay here. The- the fireworks, and Ellen’s party, and-”

“Cas. That’s not important. The fireworks are over, anyway. You missed the finale while you were in the bathroom.”

Castiel’s shoulders slump. “Dean, I- I didn’t mean to make you miss them. I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, man. But if you don’t want to go home, some of us were going to stay at Benny’s tonight. You should tag along. Only if you’re feeling up to it, though, okay?”

“Of course. Let’s… let’s do that. I’ll be alright.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dean, thankfully, does not bring up what happened on the night of the fourth. He and Castiel go to the music store in Lawrence the following Thursday. They get burgers afterwards and Dean claims that no burger will ever measure up to his own- except Ellen’s or maybe Benny’s- and vows to grill the best burger Castiel will ever eat. He does, however eat his entire lunch and makes this promise through a mouthful of greasy fries.

On Sunday, they have a movie marathon at Benny’s apartment with the rest of the group. They watch Star Wars because even Garth is up in arms- “Cas, how _could_ you?”- about the fact that Castiel hasn’t seen them. After the sixth movie ends, Charlie turns to Dorothy and bats her eyes.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Dorothy says, distracted by Benny’s german shepherd trying to chew on her boot.

Charlie huffs and looks to Dean instead. “I love you.”

“I know,” he replies with a smirk.

It’s close to two am when they leave, everyone mumbling sleepy goodbyes and shuffling their feet. Benny waves awkwardly with one hand as he tries to stop the dog from eating something off the floor- “Andrea, would you _stop chewing_ on that?!”- while simultaneously holding a mostly empty bowl of popcorn.

Two weeks after that, Aaron’s grandfather lends them his boat and they all take a day trip to the lake. Benny picks Aaron up after they’ve anchored the boat and killed the motor and throws him overboard. Castiel inadvertently starts a contest when he tries to dunk Dean. It all culminates in Jo tackling Ash off the back of the boat and Benny cannon-balling close enough to splash them both. While that happens, Dean is poking fun at Castiel’s sunburn. Castiel presses a cold can of beer against Dean’s bare stomach in response and smirks when he yelps.

One Wednesday close to the end of July, Castiel has just brought Ruth back to her tank after a few hours outside when he hears the familiar rumble of Dean’s pickup. He glances out the window to conform his suspicions. Sure enough, the rusted truck is rolling to a stop in front of the house. Castiel bounds down the stairs, curious. He pushes open the screen door just as Dean is climbing the porch steps.

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

“Cas! Dude, you have to come with me right now!”

The screen door closes with a thud. Castiel’s brow scrunches. Dean grabs him by the wrist and pulls him towards the truck, which is still idling in the driveway.

“Dean, what is going on?”

“In the truck first, ask questions second,” Dean says.

He’s more alive than Castiel has ever seen him. His green eyes are alight with excitement, his tone exuberant. The mood is infectious. Castiel has a smile plastered on his lips by the time he climbs onto the bench seat of Dean’s pickup. Dean throws the truck into gear and practically races down the driveway. Castiel can’t hold back his laugh as they swerve onto the empty dirt road out of Eden’s Creek.

“Okay, really. What’s happening right now?”

“You know that car Bobby has been letting me use scrap parts to build?”

“Yes, I remember. You said there were a few things that you had to have specially ordered.”

“Yep. The stuff I needed to finish restoring the engine came in this morning, and Bobby gave me some gas and oil to get it running with.”

“So you’re dragging me away from Ruth why…?”

Dean gives Castiel an incredulous look. “You haven’t seen my Baby yet. I can’t pick you up for a joy ride in her, you wouldn’t recognize her. So I had to get you before I finish the engine, cause then we can go joy riding right away!”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You want me to sit and wait for you to finish your car so we can immediately drive it around?”

“Exactly. But Cas, she’s not just any car. She’s my _Baby_.”

“Of course. Forgive me for my terrible mistake.”

“I’m not sure if I can.”

Castiel smacks Dean’s knee, and he slaps Castiel’s hand in response.

“Don’t hit me, I’m driving!”

“It’s no more distracting than you laying claim to the radio all the time.”

“Hey, now. I don’t know how it works in California, but here the driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

The truck bounces a little as they turn into the Winchester’s driveway. There’s a squad car parked beside the garage, a sight Castiel hasn’t seen before. Dean rolls to a stop beside it and tells Castiel to ‘entertain yourself, just for a minute!’, so Castiel delegates himself to supervising from afar. He’s been sitting in the old tire swing for twenty minutes with his arms over the top of the tire and his chin resting on his hands when he hears soft footsteps.

“Hello, Sam. How are you?”

Sam comes into view, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. You got a minute?”

Castiel’s eyes flick to the open garage, where Dean is tinkering under the hood of a sleek black car, then back to Sam. He shrugs. Sam seems to take that as a yes, because he sits down in the grass not far from where Castiel’s feet are hanging. They remain quiet until Sam sighs.

“Listen, Cas, I know you have no reason to do what I say, but you can’t tell Dean about this, okay?”

Castiel frowns, swaying slightly on the tire swing. “Dean trusts you implicitly, Sam. That is reason enough for me to at least consider your opinion. Though I can’t image what you would have to say to me that Dean couldn’t hear as well.”

“Just- promise me you won’t tell him?”

“… Alright.”

Castiel’s tone is questioning, but Sam waves it away. He looks almost uncomfortable now, with a sort of pinched expression. He takes a deep breath as if to steel himself.

“Dean’s my brother, my _only_ brother, and he’s done a lot for me. You’re going back to California in a month. I’ve barely seen Dean this summer because of you, so you’re not allowed to string him along when you go, okay?”

“I- I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Sam.”

“Dude, 99% of the time that I see him anymore, he’s talking about you. I used to hear stories about Jo and Charlie and Benny and them, but all I hear now is Cas this and Cas that.”

“Sam, I apologize if I’ve done something wrong. Dean is my friend, I-”

“Yeah, he’s your _friend_. Only that, right?”

Castiel blinks, trying to process Sam’s question. “... If- if you’re implying that Dean and I have a romantic attachment, I assure you I don’t know why. Like you said, I am returning to California in about a month. I don’t believe a long-distance relationship across state boundaries is something that either of us considered. Platonically, perhaps, but certainly not romantically.”

“So that’s how you feel about him.”

“Your brother and I are not romantically involved, Sam.”

“Have you made that clear?”

“Made what clear? I wasn’t aware that something about our friendship was unclear.”

Sam sighs again and stands up. He wipes grass clippings off his cargo shorts. “Dean’s given up a lot for me. We’ve gone through some pretty rough stuff together. He’s not going to take it well when you leave, and you’re not allowed to make it worse.”

“… Alright?”

“And remember, no telling Dean about this.”

“No telling me about what?”

Castiel’s brain short circuits for a good two seconds. Dean is wiping his greasy hands on a ratty towel, looking curiously between Sam and Castiel. Sam is staring expectantly at Castiel, his hazel eyes piercing. Castiel smiles sweetly up at Dean.

“Your surprise party.”

“Cas, my birthday isn’t until January.”

Sam shrugs. “Never said it was for your birthday. You would expect that. And it’s not a surprise if you expect it.”

Dean narrows his eyes and looks between the two of them. “… Okay, don’t tell me, then.”

“Fine. We won’t.”

When neither of them speaks again, Dean groans. “God, you’re really not going to tell me, are you?”

Castiel and Sam share a glance. They shake their heads in unison and say, “No.”

“You’re both banned from the joy ride. I’ll just take Dad.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “He’s probably still sleeping, Dean. He worked until six am. Why don’t you and Cas go, and you can take me and Dad after dinner?”

“You sure, Sammy? It’s gonna be great. Baby is running beautifully now.”

“Yeah. Take Cas, get some gas or something, then come get me and Dad after.”

Dean seems to hesitate as he things about it. Before long, he ruffles Sam’s hair. “Whatever you say, Sasquatch. C’mon, Cas!”

Dean bounces off towards the garage. Sam catches Castiel’s eye again, but this time he doesn’t seem quite so hostile. Castiel nods to him and hurries to follow Dean.

The garage is stifling, but Dean’s excitement is palpable as the two young men slide into the car. It feels much lower to the ground now that Castiel has become accustomed to riding in the pickup truck. Dean instructs him to roll down his window- it’s manual, unsurprisingly- and sit back. The seats are bench-style just like the truck, but their leather is smooth and tan. Dean starts the engine- it coughs once, then catches- and immediately AC/DC is blasting through the speakers and the car’s rumble is reverberating around the tiny garage.

Dean lets out a pleased bellow. “Yes! Oh my god, isn’t she amazing?! Can you hear that, Cas?”

“I can’t hear anything else!” Castiel shouts in reply, unable to stop himself from beaming.

Dean puts the car in gear so much more gently than he’s ever done in the truck. They ease backwards out of the garage. The deafening roar fades to a pleasant growl. Dean’s smile is all teeth and gum. His eyes are scrunched in joy, and Castiel notices that he’s starting to get crow’s feet from laugh lines already. The thought makes his stomach squirm, which only adds to the odd rush of adrenaline in his veins.

They take it slow down the driveway and out onto the road, but Dean is still playing with the gearshift and engine, making sure that everything is working properly. As soon as he’s gotten used to the way the car drives, he slams the gas pedal down. The car shoots forward with far more torque than Castiel had expected. Dean whoops exuberantly, and exhilarated expression plastered on his face.

The two of them fly down back roads, kicking up massive clouds of dust as Dean adjusts to driving the car. He nearly fishtails pulling into Bobby’s driveway. Rumsfeld, Bobby’s Rottweiler, jumps off the hood of the truck he’s been lounging on and begins barking up a storm. Bobby walks out of the house, adjusting his trucker cap as he goes.

“Rumsfeld, stop that! It’s just Dean and the California boy.”

Castiel purses his lips to hold in a noise that would have been half laugh, half sigh. Dean cuts the engine and they both slide out of the car. Dean gives Rumsfeld a single pat on the head before he’s drawn into a hug by Bobby. It involves a lot of back-slapping. Rumsfeld immediately decides it isn’t worth his time and pads over to Castiel for belly rubs.

“You got her running, then?” Bobby asks a moment later.

Dean launches into an excited, extremely detailed account of finishing the engine. By the time they’ve finished making a lap around the car and poking under the hood, Castiel has found his way to the ground. He’s sitting cross-legged with Rumsfeld half on his lap. There may or may not be a line of slobber rolling down his knee where Rumsfeld is resting his head.

Dean seems to be holding back a smile when he catches sight of this, despite his general indifference towards dogs. Bobby lets out a low whistle as he steps back to admire the car again. Rumsfeld’s ears perk up.

“She’s a beauty, Dean. Excellent work. I can’t believe you actually got her finished.”

“’67 Chevy Impala,” Dean says proudly. “Same car Mom had to talk Dad out of buying when they got married.”

“You’re a strange one, boy. I don’t know how you remember that sappy shit.”

Dean shrugs. “You can’t talk smack, Ironsides. You remember everything about Karen, and if you had kids, you know you’d whoop their asses if they didn’t remember, too.”

Castiel watches Bobby’s reaction. The gruff man huffs as if he’s been beaten, but there’s a twinkle of pride in his eyes when he looks at Dean. Of course, Dean misses this because he’s still staring at the impala. The moment passes, but witnessing it has left Castiel with a warm feeling in his chest.


	10. Chapter 10

From then on, Dean only ever drives the pickup if he’s making adjustments to the impala. It’s a boat of a car and no better on gas mileage than the 1972 truck, but he loves it. Castiel, despite his efforts not to, starts referring to the car as Baby.

On July 31st, Castiel is laying on his back in the grass of the Winchester’s front yard. He’s got his feed propped up in the tire swing, watching the leaves on the oak tree rustle in the breeze and listening to Bon Jovi playing soft on the radio.

Dean is mumbling along distractedly from his position underneath the impala. He’s got her up on jacks so he can fix something on the undercarriage- Castiel had stopped paying attention to exactly what when three out of five words had become auto-related. Dean slides out to grab another tool just as the guitar solo hits. He plays along in the air, fingers black with grease but quick and deft. Castiel watches quietly until it’s done, and then an idea hits him.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you could teach me how to play the guitar?”

Dean freezes in place and contemplates Castiel. He shrugs, wipes his hands on his shirt, and shrugs again. “I don’t know why you would want me to, but I guess I could. You’ll be able to keep rhythm at the very least. Sam can’t hold the beat to save his life.”

Castiel grins. From Dean’s vantage point, the smile seems crooked. Castiel drags his lower lip between his teeth to try and control his excitement. It doesn’t work.

“Can you teach me today?”

“Uh… I dunno. Baby needs some work still.”

“After that.”

“Sure…? Cas, what’s the rush?”

“If you teach me the basics today, we can move on tomorrow, and by the time I have to leave I’ll be able to handle having my own guitar.”

“By the time you leave? Cas, that’s-”

“Three weeks away, exactly! It’s the perfect amount of time!”

Dean’s face falls. His fingers twist around the wrench he’s holding. “Uh… yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I- I’ll get my guitar after lunch. We can go over chords or something.”

Castiel feels something tighten in his chest at the unfamiliar expression on Dean’s face. His brow starts to crease. He opens his mouth to ask if something’s wrong, but Dean shakes his head and puts on a smile again.

“Yeah, chords are a good place to start. I should be done here in twenty minutes or so. Why don’t you go see if Sam’s still home? Ask him if he has any lunch preferences if you see him.”

Castiel sighs. He tugs his feet out of the swing and rolls into a position he can push onto his feet from. He gives Dean a two-fingered salute as he turns to saunter towards the house. Behind him, Dean chuckles and slides back beneath the impala.

The house is dark and cool compared to the sunny heat of the yard. It seems too quiet for midday. Castiel scours the house, calling Sam’s name softly, until he reaches Dean’s bedroom on the second floor. He’s about to turn around and keep searching when the sound of Dean’s voice drifts in from the open window. Castiel snorts and walks over, sure he’s about to witness Dean talking to the impala again. 

Instead, he sees Dean standing close to the oak tree with Sam, his expression pinched. Sam seems perturbed. Dean wrings his hands on a dirty rag towel. Sam’s shoulders slump and he places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. It’s hard to hear what they’re saying, but every so often a few words drift up to the window.

“… can’t just ignore it, Dean…”

“… but it’s three weeks. Three weeks. That’s so soon, I-…”

“… have to tell him. It’s how you feel, you need…”

“… if he doesn’t, then what am I supposed to….”

Finally, Sam gives an exaggerated shrug. He glances towards the house, and Castiel misses whatever he’s saying in the midst of ducking out of view. He frowns. Dean had sent him inside to look for Sam, but Sam was in the front yard having a full conversation with Dean. Castiel stays pressed against the wall of Dean’s bedroom for another minute, trying to make sense of what he’s just witnessed. He comes to no conclusion.

When Castiel steps back outside, Dean and Sam take a couple of steps away from each other. Dean snaps a happy look onto his face and waves.

“Found him! What took you so long?”

“… I couldn’t find him.”

Sam nods towards Castiel, sparing only a moment to glance towards Dean, who is still smiling. The look in his eyes is mildly panicked when Sam takes a step back. Something about this situation feels off, but Castiel can’t put a finger on it.

“Hey, Cas. Sorry I wasn’t easier to track down. I’m headed out, actually.”

“You won’t be staying for lunch?”

“Nah, Kevin’s mom would throw a fit if I ate before coming over.”

“Oh. Alright. Well, have fun. Stay safe.”

Dean recovers from whatever mental state he’s in long enough to roll his eyes. “Yeah, Sam. Watch out for them rival sasquatches.”

Sam flips his brother off, waves to Castiel, and heads towards the side of the house. He bikes past them not long after. Dean sighs and slings the greasy towel over his shoulder. He claps his hands together, which startles Castiel.

“I’m gonna go get some of this grease off. Why don’t you make some lemonade and then I’ll be around to help with lunch?”

Castiel studies Dean. It seems like he’s unnerved by something, but won’t admit it aloud. “Take your time. I’ll throw some food together if you’re too slow.”

Dean gives a half-hearted grin. They walk into the house together after lowering the impala back off the jacks. Dean grabs a bottle of grease removing soap from beneath the kitchen sink and disappears upstairs. Castiel has time to make a pitcher of lemonade, slice apples, and assemble two sandwiches before Dean reappears.

There’s still a bit of grease smudged on his face, but he’s changed his clothes and his hands are clean. He looks ever so slightly uncomfortable- his hands are tight on the neck of his old guitar. He doesn’t let go of it even when Castiel hands him a plate of food and ushers him out onto the front porch. 

Their lunch is eaten in relative silence, apart from the odd crunch of a carrot or apple slice, as they sit on the top step and watch the tire swing sway in the breeze. After a while, Castiel realizes that Dean is poking at his apple slices with a carrot. Dean draws a sudden deep breath.

“Do you remember Ellen’s fourth of July party?”

Castiel feels his stomach flip. He’s still not sure what happened between him and Dean that night, why he’d gotten so anxious he was nearly sick. He chews a bite of carrot slowly, considering how he’s going to answer.

“… What part of it?”

“Jo told me later on that you two talked about… I dunno, preferences? And I- I just didn’t know if she- if you…”

“Dean, we discussed Jo and myself. She told me about some of your friends, but she didn’t say anything about you, if that’s what you’re worried about. She said it wasn’t her business. And frankly, I agree. It’s only our business if you choose to make it our business.”

Dean nods. He still looks uneasy. “I- um, I… well, it wasn’t Jo’s idea, actually, it was Charlie’s, but they were trying to-” He flushes red and stops. “They had this whole big plan, and part of it was me admitting that… uh. Well-”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Dean. I don’t mind not knowing.”

“No, I- everyone I trust knows everything about me, Cas. There’s no reason for you not to know the same as everyone else. They wanted me to tell you that I’m bi, and then they wanted that to lead to a whole… other conversation. But the point is, I- I’m not… I’m not straight.”

Castiel allows himself a moment to process this new information. It’s not surprising, per se, but it certainly explains a lot of their friends’ behavior. And Sam’s, for that matter. It doesn’t seem to be something that Dean wants attention drawn to, but it doesn’t feel right to Castiel not to answer. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his plate.

“Neither am I. I… I told Jo as much, but no one else. Gabriel knows more than she does. He was the one who helped me realize that I wasn’t a freak, I’m just… I’m asexual. And… you are the first person I’ve ever shared that with.”

He looks over sheepishly, only to find Dean staring at him. Immediately, he feels his cheeks heating up. Dean’s lips slowly part in a shy smile.

“… No shit. Really?”

“Um. Yes?”

Dean scoots a little closer so he can nudge Castiel’s shoulder with his own. “I’m glad you told me, California. It’s helpful.”

A crease appears between Castiel’s brows. “What?”

“Y’know. Helpful. Like Ace Hardware.”

“I… You lost me.”

“The… it’s a hardware store. Ace, the helpful place? It’s- … nevermind. Dumb joke.”

Castiel feels an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. He meets Dean’s eyes and can’t help but let the toothy grin show. “I’m glad I met you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s eyes search Castiel’s face. He’s lit up again, but his excitement is muted. It’s something entirely different from the exhilaration he’d had when he finished building the impala. Dean’s gaze lands somewhere around Castiel’s lips, then flicks back up to his eyes. Castiel feels his heart stutter, and then skip a beat when something darker settles into Dean’s expression.

“…. You shouldn’t go to med school.”

The statement catches Castiel off-guard. He sits back, suddenly aware that he’d been curling in towards Dean again. “Dean, we’ve talked about this. I have scholarships for Stanford, and my parents are backing my education. Even if I wanted to, I can’t just change my major.”

“You do want to, though. Don’t you? You don’t like medicine.”

“I like medicine more than I like being unemployable!”

Dean makes a frustrated noise. “You’ve said that. But being anything other than a damn doctor doesn’t make you unemployable, Cas, it makes you happier.”

“I don’t have the skills to be a mechanic, Dean, nor are my musical and linguistic skills good enough to land a steady job with. I need this education. I won’t be able to pay for it without my parents’ money.”

“You don’t need it, though. You’re only doing it for your parents’ approval. You know that.”

Castiel feels a hot flash of anger course through his veins. He raises his voice without meaning to. “You are not allowed to tell me what to do with my life or why I should do it. You are not allowed to say that I don’t have approval.”

“Oh, come on. Cas, you never talk about your parents except when it comes to med school. I’m pretty sure we both know that you’re just being a suck-up by agreeing to their stupid-ass plan for your life.”

And suddenly, they’re arguing. Castiel doesn’t register much of what’s said during the fight, but he knows they’re both being hurtful. He’s not sure what spurred it. He’s not sure what kept it going. It isn’t long before they’re both shouting, both upset that the other won’t see their point of view. He knows he’ll regret this later, especially considering Dean is the only friend he’s managed to keep for long enough to grow close to. But right now, he can’t think properly. 

“The only reason I came to this godforsaken place is because my mother couldn’t handle the fact that her son is a _faggot_! I’m not going to stay for longer than I have to, certainly not for some hick that my cousin fucked!”

An immediate silence falls. Dean’s mouth snaps shut. He looks like he’s been slapped across the face. A brick house slams into Castiel’s gut as he realizes what he’s said. He clenches his hands into fists to keep them from shaking and blinks tears from his eyes. He doesn’t know how they got to this point, standing inches apart and yelling in each other’s faces. He doesn’t know if he’s angry or sad or ashamed or _fucking terrified_ right now. Castiel swallows hard. His throat is raw. His voice trembles when he looks away and speaks again.

“… I think I’ll leave now.”

Dean’s breath leaves him in a whoosh. He reaches out a hand as Castiel descends the porch steps. Castiel smacks it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Castiel has to clench his jaw to keep from saying more, the words burning at the back of his mouth. Dean looks guilty and concerned all at once, and it’s all Castiel can do not to take off running when Dean sighs softly.

“Let me drive you home, Cas.”

“… I don’t have a home. I lost that privilege in April when I came out. Thought Stanford would sort that issue out, but obviously medical school isn’t ‘right for me’.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m being an asshole. I just…. Please. Let me drive you back to the ranch.”

Castiel shakes his head. He turns away, trying not to let the image of how defeated Dean looks stick in his mind. He walks barefoot down the gravel driveway, away from the Winchester’s house, away from Dean. The fight was quick and heated, like a small explosion. Except, it feels more like Castiel’s entire world has imploded. Something about it feels like the beginning of the end.


	11. Chapter 11

Raindrops spatter against the window with a light _tac tac tac_ as the sky continues to darken. The trees are swaying in the wind, leaves flipped silver by the dropping air pressure. The pavement is wet and black in front of the barns. Through the streaking water on the glass, Castiel can see Naomi and Anna jogging through the fields in rain gear, leading horses back inside before they spook. Chuck’s small silver car pulls up in front of the house. Castiel watches his uncle duck his head and hurry through the rain and inside. The weather feels like it’s preparing to rage. A storm is brewing, and it feels righteous.

The past four days have been unbearably sunny for Castiel. He’d made it all five miles back to Eden’s Creek still seething and nearly thrown all of his belongings down the stairs the moment he returned to his room. His sketchbook kept him from acting quite so rashly. It was the fourth thing he seized, ready to launch it into the opposite wall, when the pages flopped open in his hands. They were blank, but they held him up. They made him pause. And almost instantaneously, his fury dissolved. It was replaced with a crushing exhaustion.

He's been tired, so tired, these four days. Even Anna, nosy as ever, decided he was no fun to bother after the first day. He’s only made it through by avoiding his family at night and sitting out in the fields with the barn cats during the hottest parts of the day when everyone is inside. Today, though, today was the worst. Mid-morning, Castiel’s existential fatigue had finally segued into panic. Whatever he’d had going with Dean, that friendship is clearly over. In his anger, he said things that he knows he can’t recover from. Poked at parts of Dean’s past that should never have been acknowledged. Add four days of silence and isolation to that, and… what’s the point of even trying anymore?

A soft knock at the door draws Castiel’s attention away from the window. He scrubs at his eyes as it creaks open, trying to banish the burning sensation that could be either tears or weariness. Gabriel tiptoes into the room, then closes the door gently behind him. He crosses the room as quietly as he can and sinks onto the bed slowly, tucking his feet up under him. He stares at Castiel in silence for a few moments, then reaches over and tugs on the blanket that he’s cocooned himself in. Castiel holds the folds of the blanket tighter so Gabriel can’t pull it off. Gabriel makes a small, frustrated noise.

“C’mon, Cassie. Talk to me. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“… I turned it off a month ago. It’s in my sock drawer.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that one. Harder question: why is Winchester Major spamming my cell asking what the hell happened to you?”

Castiel grunts noncommittally. Gabriel rolls his eyes and pushes off the bed. He pulls Ruth from her tank, sets her in front of Castiel, and sits back on the end of the mattress. Ruth looks between them as if she’s confused, but quickly makes her way to the lump of blanket that should be Castiel’s lap and settles down contentedly. A moment later, Castiel’s fingers snake out of the blanket to scratch her chin. She flicks her tongue. Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

“Well? Out with it. Even Ruth is dying to know.”

Castiel heaves a sigh. He considers pulling his hand back into the warmth of the blanket only for a second before Ruth wins him over again. “We fought. And I… I said some awful things.”

“Like what?”

Castiel pulls a pained expression. “Gabriel, I’d rather not-”

Gabriel holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. Don’t tell me. That’s fine. But you do have to tell me what you fought about.”

“God, Gabe, I- I don’t even know. He just said he thinks I shouldn’t go to med school, and my temper just… I don’t know.”

“…. Maybe you shouldn’t go to med school, then.”

“What?”

“Well, if Winchester Major says so, then it must be true.” He chuckles a little, but stops when he sees Castiel’s expression. “Look, he’s your friend. I don’t intend to be mean, but… you’ve never had good luck with those. You’ve never made friends easily, and you certainly haven’t had any that would tell you what they think about your life because they care.” He huffs a breath. “What I’m saying is, maybe you should consider why he’s so adamant that you shouldn’t be going to med school. He’s going to have a different perspective than you do. And, being your friend, he’s going to be looking out for you. Not for the you your parents want. Just you.”

Castiel remains quiet for a long minute. He draws his lower lip between his teeth and worries it with a frown set into his brow. Gabriel reaches over to pat Ruth on the head while he waits for a response. Ruth licks his finger.

“He said I wouldn’t be happy following my parents’ plan, and that I was only doing it for their approval.”

“… Are you just doing it for approval? Or would it actually make you happy?”

“I- I don’t know. I’ve never considered it. I just- I went with it. It’s what Mother wants. It’s… it’s the only thing that Father smiles about. I don’t particularly like medicine, no, but… I’m good at it. And when I talk about medicine, they care about the conversation.”

“Fuck them, then! Fuck Aunt Muriel, Fuck Uncle Marv. They don’t care about you, they care about your accomplishments. They care about their last name being recognized and respected. Tell me, Castiel- if Aunt Muriel and Uncle Marv acted the same about medicine as they do about everything else you do, would you be making a career of it?”

Castiel’s gut sinks. He bites the inside of his cheek. The answer is almost terrifying, the gravity of it dragging him back down to the harsh truth of reality. “No.”

“What would you be making a career of?”

“Art. Or education, even. I don’t… I’ve never considered-”

“You never let yourself consider anything but what they wanted. But think about it. You can do whatever you want to do. Don’t think about the consequences. Just… change your major. Try to make yourself happy. Don’t try to make your parents happy. They don’t matter. You’re the only one that matters in your future.”

Castiel allows his cousin’s words to sink in. Ruth adjusts in his lap so she can curl more comfortably around his hand. He nods once, cautiously, and then again, more vigorously. Gabriel grins and claps his hands.

“Great! Pep talk achieved, I’m the best cousin ever, rejoicing and hugs all around. I need a favor.”

Castiel’s hesitant good mood crashes immediately. “What?”

“Lucian called family dinner the other day. He says he has big news, but not as big as Michael’s. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on, but I refuse to suffer alone. So. You’re going to shower and make yourself presentable and then you’re going to come to dinner willingly.”

Castiel groans. “Do I have to?”

“Please, god, yes. I can’t face this family alone as long as you’re in the same state, so please please please help me avoid my mother’s radar and keep it on my asshole brothers.”

“… Fine.”

 

Two hours later, Castiel is descending the stairs to meet Gabriel in the living room when he hears a familiar voice and stops dead in the entryway. Brown eyes meet blue through the arched doorway, and a sly smile spreads across blood red lips. Kali excuses herself from the conversation with Anna and Chuck and slinks through the dining room to the entryway where Castiel is frozen in place. She reaches out her hand and drags one manicured fingernail down his chest when she’s close enough.

“Castiel.”

She practically purrs his name. The tone of her voice makes him want to vomit. He takes an impulsive step back and watches the curiosity in her gaze harden to mild interest.

“Kali. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was invited. Unlike the riff raff that hangs around.” She flicks her eyes past Castiel to the living room doorway, then smiles sweetly and shrugs. “But he’ll be gone soon, won’t he? I mean, I can’t think of anything else that could be considered good news for his contribution tonight.”

Castiel frowns. “Contribution?”

“You’ll see. It’s going to be rather fun, I think. It’s a shame I’m not seated next to you, though. I bet I could really make you squirm.” She bares her teeth in a hideously self-satisfied grin, then leans in close to his ear and drops her voice to a whisper. “I know something about Gabriel that your aunt doesn’t.”

Castiel jerks away from her just as she draws back again. He doesn’t have time to open his mouth and ask what she means before she’s pinching his cheek and cooing at him.

“Oh, you’re so easy to rile up. It would be fun to get you off if you weren’t such a prudish fruit loop.”

“I’m not-”

“Oh, please,” Kali scoffs. “I’ve known from the moment I saw you. I mean, really. No straight man would wear the shorts you were wearing. Don’t worry. I haven’t told anyone. Not yet.”

She winks at him and whirls around to sashay back into the dining room. Castiel barely manages to suppress a full-body shudder. The whole interaction has left him feeling dirty and used. Gabriel appears at his side not long after, looking surly and off-put.

“The she-devil is here,” he grumbles.

Castiel nods once, still trying to process what she’d said to him. “Are you sure we have to do this?”

“Sadly.”

“…. Alright, let’s get it over with. Quick. Like a band-aid.”

The two young men stride into the dining room together. Somehow, their presence is barely noticed. Their luck runs through the whole meal, and just when Castiel is beginning to think he’ll make it through the pecan pie dessert, Lucian clears his throat.

“I know you’re all wondering why I decided to call a family dinner and then not say anything. But I thought it would be best to save the news for dessert, so Michael has to suffer as well.”

Michael sighs from across the table. “Luce, I don’t think-”

Lucian shushes his twin immediately. “No, no. I know what you say is going to overshadow all the rest of us, so you can wait. I think we should all share the big news of our summers, and I think Feathers should go first.”

Castiel sets his fork down with a clatter and an annoyed groan. “Lucian, I told you to stop using that nickname! It wasn’t funny when I was five, and it certainly isn’t funny now.”

“No-can-do, cuz. You got news or what?”

Castiel frowns. “No? Why are you-”

Lucian cuts him off with a buzzer noise, clearly delighted by how this is unfolding already. “Wrong answer, Feathers. Your news is that you love us all and enjoyed having a summer with us before going to school, but you’re leaving in a week and a half and regret having to go. Anna, why don’t you go next?”

Anna sighs and shakes her head. “Luce, I really wasn’t prepared for one of your little games. I don’t have anything prepared! I guess some big news is that I applied for certification on teaching dressage. I haven’t heard back yet, but it should only be a few more days.”

Lucian grins. “Excellent work, baby sister! Hey, Daddy-o, how about you?”

“… Becky is editing the final draft of the new novel? That’s not news, but I suppose it should be sufficient for… whatever it is you’re doing right now.”

“That it is, Father, that it is. Mother?”

Naomi finishes chewing the bite of pie in her mouth and dabs at her lips with a napkin. “Your Aunt Muriel signed over the last of the documents for the property deeds two weeks ago. Eden’s Creek is officially a Milton-only business, not a Milton-Novak business.”

Castiel exchanges a glance with Gabriel, who rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. There’s a thud as Anna kicks her brother under the table and he winces. Lucian doesn’t even bother looking towards them. He scoots his chair an inch closer to Kali’s and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

“Before Mikey can start talking, then, I’ll go. We didn’t want to say anything too early on, but-”

“Lucian and I have been dating for a month,” Kali cuts in, positively beaming.

There’s a clatter as Anna drops her fork, followed by a fit of coughing and a wheeze from Gabriel as he chokes on a bite of pie. Naomi pauses with her water glass halfway to her lips, then lowers it as she starts to smile. Anna stares openly at her best friend and older brother. No one seems to notice Gabriel frantically trying to dislodge the crumbs from his throat.

“Well,” Naomi says after a moment. “That’s wonderful news indeed. Welcome back into the family, Kali.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Milton.”

“Oh, please, darling, call me Naomi.”

Rachel clears her throat softly, drawing the attention away from Lucian and Kali. Michael lays his hand over hers with a reserved smile as she begins to speak. “I certainly don’t want to detract from this, but Lucian was right about Michael and I’s news. It’s… rather big.”

“After Rachel got home from her trip, we stopped at the clinic in Lawrence. We wanted to wait a few weeks to make sure everything was alright before we told anyone, and so we could have a bit of time for ourselves.”

Rachel locks eyes with Michael. He nods once. She draws a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

This time, Naomi is the one who drops her fork, and Gabriel’s retching noise is clearly intentional. Chuck looks up from his plate with a scowl.

“Gabriel, stop acting like a child. That’s extremely rude. Michael, Rachel, congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Rachel is the one who answers, both of her hands now tight around Michael’s. He’s glaring at his younger brother from around his wife. Gabriel raises his hands in surrender and allows everyone to fawn over Michael and Rachel for a few minutes. When it starts to calm down again, half the family is standing behind his chair, having risen for embraces and pats on the back. Gabriel meets Castiel’s eye and smirks.

“Don’t know why they’re so excited,” he whispers across the table. “Another Michael in the family is no cause for celebration. We’re all doomed.”

Castiel doesn’t even have time to snicker before Lucian raises his voice.

“Gabey baby, you seem talkative tonight. Why don’t you share something about your summer? Personally, I’m curious about where you’ve been disappearing off to for days on end recently.”

A hush falls over the dining room again. Gabriel seems frozen for a moment, then shrugs languidly. “Not much to tell, Lucy. I think I work more in a week than you and Anna put together. I spend a lot of time at the day care. And if you care so much, a friend and I have been looking at getting an apartment together in Lawrence so I don’t have to drive so far for school.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Lucian sing-songs, flicking at Gabriel’s hair. Everyone is looking now. “You haven’t been home in almost a week. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“It’s none of your business who I spend my time with.”

“Of course it is! I’m your big brother. I care about you. I deserve to know who you’re hanging around so I can protect you.”

“I’m twenty-two. I don’t need protection.”

Naomi clucks her tongue. “Now, boys, don’t argue. I would appreciate knowing if you have a girlfriend, though, Gabriel.”

“Oh my god,” Castiel scoffs, unable to keep quiet any longer. Eight pairs of eyes settle on him, some angry, some surprised, one relieved. “Why does it matter if he’s in a relationship or not? He just told you he’s thinking of moving out. Don’t you think it would be better to see if you can help him out with that somehow?”

“He wouldn’t be in this situation if he had stayed in law school. He only needs to save money because he decided to switch to a profession that has none.”

Castiel pushes his chair back and stands up, already knowing he’s going to lose his temper. Just like the storm outside, it’s been brewing for days. He walks around the end of the table so he can come toe-to-toe with his aunt and crosses his arms.

“You’re Gabriel’s mother, Naomi, not his life coach. He can decide what’s right for him, and what do you care if it’s not being a lawyer? Why is that the only thing you pay attention to with him? You’re so concerned with your plans that you haven’t taken the time to know your own son.”

“Castiel, that is no way to-”

“I’m not finished! You push all of your kids around and keep them in a vice grip because you’re such a goddamn control freak that you can’t even imagine what might happen if you let them go. So what if Gabriel wants to move to Lawrence?! He’s twenty-two years old, he can do what he wants with his own life! He doesn’t have to live under your roof forever like Michael and Lucian. Family doesn’t mean _shit_ when the only thing it’s good for is money.”

Naomi schools her expression to cool indifference, but her eyes are full of checked anger. “I know you’re still upset that my sister sent you out here for the summer, Castiel, but you need to learn your place. That is no way to talk about the people who care about you, nor is it-”

“My mother is an insipid bitch and so are you.”

“Castiel James Novak, how dare you say such a thing!”

“Don’t act so surprised, Naomi. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, why do you think I’m here? You know your sister- you can’t honestly believe she wanted me to spend the summer before med school on a damn ranch.”

Naomi’s lips purse. Castiel can see Gabriel, half out of his chair, frantically shaking his head and mouthing a warning. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Castiel knows he’s playing with fire, knows he’s toeing a dangerous line. He knows he should stop while he can still recover from what he’s said. And yet, just as it had with Dean four days ago, his temper takes control and he says everything he shouldn’t. By the time he’s finished insulting everyone in the family, save for Gabriel, his chances of making it through the summer unscathed are hanging on by a thread. He’s never seen Naomi angrier, and he finds that he can’t stop at this point.

“Oh, and by the way? My mother is even more homophobic than you are, and she wound up with a son who likes other men. So when you go to hell, please make sure to tell her I-”

He’s cut off by a loud slap as Naomi backhands him across the face. He makes a small noise of pain, his eyes immediately watering from the sting. The sharp tang of blood seeps into his mouth as he presses his tongue against the new split in his lip. Naomi is practically shaking where she stands, absolute fury playing across her face. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel sees her start to raise her hand again, and some survival instinct finally kicks in.

He turns tail and flees from the room, skidding on the rug in the entryway as he takes the corner too sharp and nearly slams himself into the wall while trying to make it to the front door. He hears Gabriel’s voice behind him yelp out “Naomi, what the _fuck_?!” and then get drowned out in a flood of shouting. 

The screen door slams behind Castiel as he practically falls down the porch steps and stumbles to the driveway. And just like that, he’s running again. Wildly, recklessly, blindly, away from the house and away from Eden’s Creek. Through the field across the gravel road, where the corn has grown above his head and the ground is uneven from plowing. Into the woods, skidding on last year’s leaves and barely avoiding low-hanging branches. He runs until the burning sets into his lungs, and then he pushes on further. It isn’t until he catches his ankle on a root and slams face-first into the ground that he even considers stopping.

He rolls onto his back and lays there a while, wheezing, as he stares up at the sky. He can barely see it through the trees, but it’s dark. Far too dark for the time of day. The leaves are whipping violently in the wind, and then Castiel hears it, and his blood runs cold. Thunder.


	12. Chapter 12

Whether it’s been seconds, minutes, or days, Castiel doesn’t know. He’s struggling to find some landmark that he knows, but everything is twisted and foreign in the storm. He doesn’t know which direction he came from, nor does he want to return to Eden’s Creek, but his panic is building along with the storm. The sound of creaking and a loud pop behind him cause Castiel to spin so quickly that his black dress shoes slip in the mud. He throws his arms out as he struggles to stay upright and teeters until he manages to catch himself on a small tree. The only thought he can form is _I’m going to die_.

Castiel is trembling when he releases the tree and takes a few tentative steps away. There’s a bright flash, immediately followed by an ear-splitting clap of thunder and a crash. He hears a shriek but doesn’t register that it’s come from his own mouth. His heart leaps into his throat and ceases its beating for what seems like ages before it begins pounding against his ribs. All he can hear is the storm raging above him, threatening to bring the whole forest down on top of him and drag him to a divine reckoning for his sins.

It isn’t until he misses a step and lurches over a small embankment into icy water that his senses clear again. Castiel sits in the shallows of Campbell creek with his white button-up muddy and plastered to his chest and turns his face towards the sky. The black clouds are swirling overhead, lit up by streaks of white light. Each bolt of lightning is followed by deafening thunder and a violent gust of wind. Castiel squeezes his eyes closed and shoves the palms of his hands against them. If he presses hard enough, he thinks, he might be able to forget the sight. Castiel feels his breath catch in his throat, feels himself let out a keening whine, feels hot tears begin to leak between his fingers. He feels the hair on his arms start to stand up with the charge in the air and peeks out from behind his hands just in time to see lightning strike at the far edge of the field across the creek.

He’s running again, and he doesn't know when he got out of the water. It seems now like this is all his summer has ever been- running. From his parents, from his cousins, from his aunt, from his future and his problems, from the only friend he’s ever really had. He never stands and faces the issue. He turns. And he runs. There’s no other option here, though. If he stops running, the terror of the tempest around him will catch up. His own panic will tear him apart.

The next time Castiel stops, it’s only because his legs give out beneath him. His chest is pinched tight around his heart and lungs. Every muscle in his body is screaming in protest. The wind is wailing through the tops of the trees and dragging them towards the earth. Castiel can’t hear anything else. He falls to his knees, wraps his arms around his head, and screams until his throat is raw. 

When he first hears his name, he thinks he’s gone insane. That, or he’s dead and the reaper is approaching. But then it comes again, and again, closer this time, until-

“CAS? CASTIEL?!”

Something stirs deep inside him, and Castiel finds the courage to lift his head from the mud. Dean falls to the ground beside him, shouting so his words can’t get torn away by the storm. But Castiel doesn’t hear what he’s saying. He reaches out and latches his right hand onto Dean’s left shoulder as if holding on will keep him grounded. Dean seizes Castiel’s left hand in his own and squeezes. In the same moment, a bolt of lightning strikes the ground beside them.

Time freezes. Castiel can see himself as if from above, crouched in the clearing beside the Old Campbell barn, his hand on Dean’s shoulder and Dean holding his hand for dear life. They’re both completely soaked, their hair and clothes plastered to their skin. Castiel is caked in mud, his eyes wide in terror and his lip swollen around the split. He sees the lightning, streaked down from the darkest cloud to meet the earth in a burst of mud and fire. Before the first strike can disappear, a second has followed in the exact same spot. He sees this, and he knows.

He will never be able to return to a world without Dean Winchester, because there is no world without Dean Winchester. They say that lightning never strikes the same place twice, that seeing it happen is a once in a lifetime thing. As time resumes and Castiel finds himself scooped into Dean’s arms, he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s found his once in a lifetime. He’s found Dean.

Castiel clings to the arms holding him and curls his face into Dean’s neck. He can feel his shoulders shaking as sobs rip out of his chest, tears blazing hot tracks down his cheeks. The wind ceases suddenly and the sounds of the storm muffle slightly. Dean lowers them both to the ground after a few minutes, and Castiel feels a hand rubbing small circles into his back. A moment later, Dean’s face presses against the top of Castiel’s head.

They begin rocking back and forth and Castiel hears a low rumble as Dean begins humming. Soon after, he’s singing softly, one hand still clutched around Castiel’s.

“ _Go on, lose the gamble, that’s the history of the trade. Did you add up all the cards left to play to zero and sign up_ -”

Dean cuts off abruptly when Castiel shifts in his arms. He lifts his head and locks eyes with Dean, searching for the answer to a question he doesn’t know in that deep green. His fingers tighten on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s brow creases. Gentle fingers brush Castiel’s cheek. Distantly, he registers pain beneath Dean’s touch.

“Cas… who did this to you?”

Dean’s eyes roam Castiel’s face and settle on the place where he’s running his thumb over a hot welt on his cheekbone, then the split in his lip. Castiel swallows hard. He can still feel himself trembling with barely contained terror. Dean’s fingers threading through his own are the only things keeping him in the moment.

“Naomi. I- … I pushed her into it.”

“She can’t treat you like this. No one can, Cas. Trust me, it’s not okay. It doesn’t matter what you say or do, she’s not allowed to hit you.”

Castiel is quiet for a long moment. He leans into Dean’s chest and rests his head back on Dean’s shoulder. “How did you find me?”

“Dumb luck. Gabriel called me, sounded scared out of his mind. Said there was a fight and you left the house right before the storm struck. He was the only one out looking for you, but he ran his car off the road. God, Cas, what were you thinking running away like that?”

“I-”

“You scared the shit out of me. Four days of radio silence and then a call that no one knows where you are? You hate thunderstorms. If something had happened, I- …. Jesus, California, I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you here.”

“…. I’m sorry. About this, a-and… everything. Dean, I said so many awful things to you. I can’t take any of that back and I just…”

“It’s okay. You were upset, and I was pushing too hard, and-”

“Dean Johnathan Winchester, don’t you dare pass this off. I was horrible to you and you didn’t deserve that and even if I didn’t mean what I said, I said it and that isn’t alright.”

Dean purses his lips, then nods once. “Okay. I accept your apology. But if you’re being stubborn, I get to be stubborn, too. I shouldn’t have said what I said either.”

Castiel can hear Dean’s voice rumble in his chest. He looks at his lap, where Dean is still holding his hand, his thumb rubbings circles against the back of Castiel’s hand. He bites his lower lip to hold back a smile. He had thought the concept of home was lost when his parents sent him to Kansas. But sitting here, listening to the storm die down to heavy rains, it’s clear that home isn’t a place. Home is laced between his fingers. Home is soaking wet and cold, but holding him close to preserve heat. Home is trying to keep him calm and distracted. Home was singing to drown out the noise of the storm.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“What was that song you were singing?”

“Oh. Uh- it…. I wrote it. It isn’t anything fancy. Sam told me I should use it to teach you guitar.”

“What did you call it?”

“Angeles.”

“…. You know I’m not from Los Angeles, right?”

Dean snorts and wraps his arms tighter around Castiel. “First of all, I never said the song was about you, don’t get cocky. Second of all, I had to guess and Angeles sounded nice. You never did tell me where you’re from other than ‘California’. And third, I wasn’t thinking about LA, I was thinking about angels.”

“I’m from San Clemente, Dean.”

Dean laughs. It shakes Castiel a bit, but it feels nice to have that laughter so close again. Dean keeps Castiel talking well into the night, until the storm has completely passed. They walk to Dean’s truck hand in hand beneath the stars once the clouds have cleared, trudging through mud puddles the entire way. Neither of them have really dried off yet, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they pile into the truck. Castiel sits pressed close to Dean’s side during the drive to the Winchester’s house.

It’s nearly two am when they tiptoe up the stairs to Dean’s bedroom. Castiel watches as Dean plugs in his phone and sends a text to Gabriel the moment the screen lights up. Dean tosses a pair of pajama pants and the yellow flannel at Castiel. They both change, scrub their damp hair with a dirty towel, and collapse onto Dean’s bed together. After a few moments of silence, Castiel feels the tiny mattress shift as Dean rolls onto his side.

“Cas,” he whispers.

Castiel struggles to turn his head and face Dean. Now that things are calm, the events of the night have left him feeling drained. It feels like it’s been much longer than seven hours.

“Dean.”

“I can’t stop thinking about that crazy lightning strike. Are we dead?”

“No, Dean. We lived. It wasn’t close enough to harm us.”

“… Would it be inappropriate to reference AC/DC right now?”

“If you start singing Thunderstruck, I’m pushing you off your own bed.”

The mattress shakes as Dean chuckles softly. His hand comes to rest on top of Castiel’s, and then he threads their fingers together. “Goodnight, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

Castiel jolts awake to the sound of a door slamming and someone moving around downstairs. Dean’s arm slides off his chest as he sits up. He blinks blearily, surveying his surroundings through sleep-blurred eyes. He moves to rub his face and yawns. The old yellow flannel shirt bunches around his wrists as he stretches and falls to cover his hands when he lowers his arms again. He glances to the side at Dean, but the other man is still sound asleep.

Castiel swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads over to the bedroom door. Cupboards in the kitchen creak open and closed again, and then a chair scrapes back. He decides Sam must be awake already and carefully leaves the room so he doesn’t disturb Dean. The stairs groan beneath his feet on his way down to the main floor of the house.

Castiel turns the corner into the kitchen expecting to see Sam and instead finds a man who can be no other than John Winchester. The man has a full head of dark hair, peppered with grey, and a matching beard. He’s sitting with his back to Castiel, eating dry cheerios out of a bowl without a spoon. A half empty glass of orange juice sits just to the side of his bowl. He doesn’t look up as Castiel enters the room, then pauses, but instead continues to read his newspaper. The sleeves on his uniform are rolled up to his elbow. He turns a page and shakes the paper straight again, then clears his throat.

“Sam, put on a pot of coffee.”

Castiel hesitates in the doorway, unsure what to do. “Uh… I don’t want to startle you, sir, but I’m not Sam.”

John turns to look over his shoulder at Castiel. He looks drained. There are bags under his eyes. He studies Castiel with tired hazel eyes, his newspaper drooping slightly. “… You know how to make coffee?”

“Yessir.”

“Well, get to it then.”

And he looks back to the paper. Castiel frowns before instinctively kicking into action. He crosses the kitchen to where he knows the coffee and filters are kept, fills the reservoir with fresh water, and presses the button to start the brewing. When he turns around again, he finds John watching him with a curious expression. Castiel freezes in place. He barely resists the urge to ask what John thinks he’s looking at.

“You the California boy Dean has been on about all summer?”

“Uh… I suppose?”

“What brings you to Kansas?”

“I’m staying with my aunt. Naomi Milton.”

John makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds disapproving. He motions towards the fridge with his glass after taking a drink of orange juice. “There’s eggs in there if you want some. Cereal’s in the cupboard. What are the boys up to?”

“Sleeping, I suppose. I haven’t seen Sam yet. Dean is… snoring.”

“Hm. So what brings you here, then?”

Castiel tips his head to the side, bewildered. “I… I’m staying with my aunt?”

John rubs a hand over his face. It’s a gesture Castiel has seen Dean mimic many times. “Here. In my house. Why are you in my kitchen?”

“Oh. I heard the cupboards closing and figured Sam was awake. I apologize for staying over without permission. I was… _lost_ during the storm last night, and Dean found me. It was quicker to come here than to drive over to Eden’s Creek. Safer, too, I would assume.”

“Yeah, we got quite a few calls about downed trees last night. Some houses got hit. No one got hurt, though, which I suppose is-”

“What the fuck.”

Castiel startles at the interruption while John turns calmly towards his son and sighs. Sam is standing in the doorway, his hair a rumpled mess. He isn’t wearing a shirt and his plaid pajama pants are about three inches too short. Despite very obviously having just woken up, he looks furious.

“Why are you here? Dude, I told you not to make things worse and you majorly fucked up. How did you get in the house? And is that _Dean’s_ shi-”

“Sam,” John cuts in, his voice sharp. “Watch your language. What makes you think you can talk to a guest like that? Dean invited him here. You don’t get a say in who your brother is friends with.”

Sam looks to his father in disbelief. He sounds scandalized when he speaks again. “Dad!”

John holds up one hand. Behind Castiel, the coffee maker beeps. A moment of tense silence follows, and then John suggests that they all have breakfast at the table instead of on the counter. Castiel pours three mugs of steaming coffee as Sam makes two more bowls of cheerios and John moves his breakfast. He sits at the head of the table with Sam and Castiel on either side of him. Sam refuses to touch both his cereal and his coffee. Castiel crunches the cheerios as quietly as possible while trying not to think about how awkward the situation is. Finally, John breaks the silence by lowering his newspaper onto the table.

“I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s _Castiel_ ,” Sam sneers, still glowering across the table with his arms crossed.

John shoots him an annoyed look. “I didn’t ask you, Samuel, I asked him.”

Castiel glances between them before opening his mouth. “Castiel, sir. Castiel Novak.”

“You still in school, or…?”

“About to start university. I’m headed home in just under a week, actually.”

“How old are you, then?”

“Eighteen. Nineteen in September.”

John nods a bit. “Dean and Sam’s mother had a birthday in September.”

Somewhere above them, a door slams open. Footsteps pound down the stairs and moments later, Dean bursts into the kitchen. He calms immediately when he catches sight of Castiel, then seems to register that his father and brother are in the room as well and stalls a bit. His green eyes roam over the three of them. He’s very clearly bewildered.

“Um. Mornin’, Dad. Sammy. Cas. What- uh. What’s going on?”

“Breakfast,” John says, barely glancing at his son. Apparently something about this situation is normal, because he seems unfazed.

Dean forces himself to start walking again. He ruffles Sam’s hair as he reaches the table and Sam slaps his hand away. “Sooo….. this is… hey, Cas, why don’t I give you a ride home?”

Before Castiel can respond, Dean has passed behind John and pulled Castiel out of his chair by the upper arm. They cross the kitchen and Dean drags Castiel out the door onto the porch, down the steps, through the lawn, and into the impala. Castiel blinks, trying to register exactly what just happened.

“Dean? Is everything alright?”

“No. Nope. Nope no no no nope. Why are you just casually having breakfast with my dad and little brother? That’s weird. Right, that’s weird? It’s not. I’m making it weird. No… no, definitely weird. What the hell?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Dean.”

Dean draws a deep breath and pats his own cheeks. “I’m good, man, I’m fine. I’m awake and I’m good. You’re taking meals with my family. That’s alright. That’s… normal. Yep. Eating cheerios at seven fucking am is just fine.”

“Are you…. Are you going to drive me back to Eden’s Creek or are we going to sit here in your driveway while you have some sort of breakdown?”

“We’re going to sit here for just, like, five minutes maybe? And then we’re going to go somewhere that isn’t that damn ranch because I’m not taking you back there until Gabriel gives me the go-ahead, but we sure as hell are not going to march back into my house and have breakfast with my dad and baby bro.”


	13. Chapter 13

The remainder of Castiel’s days in Kansas pass in a blur. He doesn’t see Sam or John again, though he spends every day with Dean, often sketching the other man’s hands, eyes, and freckles as he works. Rumsfeld takes a particular liking to a sketch of Dean smiling and drools all over it while Castiel is in a heated debate with Bobby about the benefits of brewing honey into alcohol. Dean is the one who breaks it up by promising Bobby that he’ll bring him some mead to try while subtly covering Castiel’s mouth with his hand. The happy light in his eyes makes Castiel’s stomach lurch.

During their last movie night with Dean’s friends, Castiel witnesses Charlie and Dorothy sharing a moment across the room. They’re completely absorbed in each other, giggling about something one of them has said, with their foreheads touching. Dorothy presses a kiss to Charlie’s cheek while brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Something about it makes Castiel feel alone. He’s pressed against Dean’s side on the couch, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t bring himself to take Dean’s hand again. 

After the lightning strike, every interaction Castiel has with Dean seems laden with… something. He doesn’t know quite what, doesn’t know what to do about it, but he knows that he wants it. Dean feels like home, he knows that much. But whenever he focuses too hard, his heartbeat races and his palms get sweaty and he immediately stops thinking about it. The only conclusion he can come to is that returning to California is going to hurt like hell.

Castiel sits alone in his empty bedroom, now, studying his surroundings. Something about it seems bittersweet, though he knows he’s not going to miss this place. When he’d gotten here in May, he’d had no intention of making this a comfortable space. And yet, over the course of the summer, moments shared with Gabriel, Ruth, and Dean have made the room feel more like his own and less like the cell his aunt had sentenced him to. He sighs heavily and pulls his shirt tighter around his shoulders. It’s Dean’s yellow flannel, but after the night he’d stayed at the Winchester’s house, Dean had told him to keep it. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he wears it to bed each and every night. When he falls asleep, he can almost imagine that Dean is beside him, and he doesn’t feel quite so alone.

“Are you sure she’s going to be warm enough?”

Castiel rises from the bed as Gabriel walks into the room, holding Ruth. She doesn’t seem impressed by the towel she’s been wrapped in, but she flicks her tongue happily as Gabriel hands her over to Castiel. He presses his nose to the top of her head for a brief moment.

“Of course. She’s flown before, Gabriel. And this time, she’ll get to do it with me.”

“I guess…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve actually gotten attached to her. Gabe, you used to think she was, and I quote, a ‘freaky lizard thing’.”

“Shut up, Cassie. She was the only one keeping me company when you were off gallivanting with Winchester Major. I’m gonna miss her.”

“But not me?”

“Of course not.”

Both cousins grin, then pull each other into a fierce hug, careful not to disturb Ruth. Gabriel pats Castiel on the back before pulling away. His eyes are shining, but not quite wet. He blows hair out of his face and tickles under Ruth’s chin.

“Take care of my cousin, you freaky lizard thing, okay? He’s the only good one in this family.”

“I’ll miss you, Gabriel. Are you sure you’re not going to ride along to the airport?”

“Yeah. There’s no room in that truck between your luggage and Michael’s fat head. I’ll just text you constantly so you can give me a play by play of how boring and snobbish he’s being.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You stole my phone to make sure it was charged, didn’t you?”

“Yup.”

Gabriel presses a cellphone into Castiel’s waiting hand. He’s barely touched it all summer, so the weight is unfamiliar. He slides it into the front pocket of his skinny jeans and adjusts his hold on Ruth. 

“Well, it’s just about time to go. How do I look?”

Gabriel sweeps his eyes over his cousin. “Like you did when you got here this summer, but with a tan and a better shirt.”

“Shut up. That shirt was great. It’s not my fault you made me cover it up with my stupidest cardigan just to please your mother.”

“Hey, I saved your life that day. You should be thanking me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Fine, fine. But you gotta admit, stealing Winchester Major’s shirt definitely upped the quality of your wardrobe. Maybe if you dated him you’d actually get a completely decent one.”

“Ha ha. All Dean wears is plaid and band t-shirts. You should know that now that you two are apparently buddy-buddy.”

“Funny you should say that, Cassie, he actually gave me one of his most treasured band shirts yesterday.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Gabriel laughs, then shakes his head. “Really, though, I can’t believe you got through this entire summer without anything happening between you two. I thought for sure you would have been making out in June. But nope, Cassie made himself a friend instead. Which is awesome, don’t get me wrong, and I’m super proud of you, but it did kinda ruin my whole plan to set you up with someone.”

“I thought I told you not to try.”

“You did. And I didn’t. I found a hottie for myself instead.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t matter how I do or don’t feel about Dean. Even if I want to, I’ll never get the chance to see him again. I haven’t got a way to stay in contact with him.”

“We could fix that. I do have his num-”

“Castiel! Michael is waiting for you in the truck, hurry up!”

Both young men flinch at the sound of Naomi’s voice drifting up the stairs. She doesn’t seem very pleased at the moment. Gabriel makes an exaggerated gagging motion, then steps aside and waves his hands as if presenting the doorway to Castiel.

“After you, good sir. The unholy leader of the witch brigade summons you.”

They traipse down the stairs together, Gabriel hanging a bit behind Castiel. Ruth squirms in her towel when she sees the family lined up in the entryway waiting for Castiel. Anna makes a face and brushes past everyone else to push through the door onto the front porch. Everyone else acts civil, as if they hadn’t been just as horrible this summer as they had Castiel’s entire life. He endures light, impersonal hugs from Chuck and Lucian, then kisses on his cheeks from Naomi and Rachel. And then the family is ushering him outside to where Michael is waiting beside the Milton’s work truck. Most of Castiel’s luggage is piled in the bed, including Ruth’s tank, but he has a backpack sitting on the seat inside the cab. There really isn’t any room for Gabriel to tag along.

Castiel takes one last look around Eden’s Creek. He knows he’s not going to regret leaving this place, not in the slightest, but some part of him is reluctant to go. Eventually, he sighs and swings himself up into the truck. Michael climbs in a moment later and turns the key. Gabriel is the only member of the family who doesn’t look delighted that Castiel is about to leave. Michael presses the brake and reaches to the gear shift, but before he can put the truck in drive, a loud rumble cuts through the bleak summer air.

The impala comes flying up the driveway and screeches to a halt just to the side of Michael’s truck. Dean leaps out, leaving his door hanging open and the engine running. Naomi looks incredibly offended, but Gabriel throws his arm into her path so she can’t walk over to tell Dean off for whatever he’s about to do.

“Cas, wait! Wait, I need to talk to you!”

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

Dean runs over to the idling truck and places his hands on the open passenger window. It’s almost as if he thinks he can keep the truck from moving if he just holds on. Castiel places Ruth on the seat beside him so he can reach towards Dean, who’s chest is heaving as he catches his breath. He looks up at Castiel with wide green eyes.

“I don’t- I don’t want you to go.”

“Dean, I… My flight leaves in three hours, I really need to get to the airport.”

“This is important. I promise. I need you to hear me out, okay? I don’t want you to leave, not just yet.”

“I-”

“I know you have school to think about, and I’m not trying to stop you from doing that. God knows I’ve pushed that issue to the breaking point. I’m done with that. I just… before you go anywhere, I need you to know that you changed my whole life for the better, Cas.”

Castiel feels his cheeks flush. He shifts awkwardly. “… Everyone is staring at us…”

“I don’t care. You turned the world upside down and when it spun back, it was different. It made more sense. Sometimes you drive me crazy with all the things you do. You don’t seem like you should be a real person, but you are, you’re a great person. I know I can’t stop you from leaving, and I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve the world and you’re going to take it by storm. But I can’t let you leave Kansas without knowing what you did for me. Cas, you’re my best friend. I- I _need_ you. You’re family.”

Castiel swallows hard. His heart is pounding against his ribs. In the back of his mind, he knows that he’s still being watched, but he can’t help that. The only thing that matters right now is Dean, and he’s right here, he’s right in front of Castiel. And Castiel isn’t willing to lose him. Not yet. He wrenches the door open and practically falls out of the truck into Dean’s arms. Dean catches him in a tight hug and buries his face in Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel clenches his fingers in the fabric of Dean’s shirt and holds on as if for dear life. He tucks his head down into the crook of Dean’s neck. His breath shakes a bit when he finally pulls away.

“I won’t forget what you did for me this summer. And I- … you are the best friend I have ever had as well, Dean. You’re more important to me than I care to admit most of the time, but… I need you as well.”

He turns quickly and fumbles through the glovebox for the pen he knows is in there, then seizes Dean’s hand and scrawls his phone number onto his palm.

“I don’t use it much, but I promise that I’ll answer whenever you call.”

Dean’s face splits into a blinding smile. He pulls Castiel into another quick, bone-crushing hug, then helps him back into the truck when Michael huffs impatiently. He leans around Castiel to stroke Ruth’s head, and she licks his finger.

“Take good care of him, you hear? He’s in your little lizard feet now.”

Dean steps back and closes the door, then pats the side of the truck. Michael makes a small noise that might be a scoff, but finally puts the truck into gear and starts down the driveway. Castiel leans in his seat so he can watch Eden’s Creek disappear behind him. Most of the family is traipsing back inside already, but Dean is standing beside the impala, and Gabriel comes to stand beside him. Castiel’s heart swells. He watches them until he can’t see them and then settles back against his seat. Ruth crawls out of her towel and onto his lap, curling herself into the crook of his arm. She closes her eyes contentedly as Michael turns onto the road and a beam of sunlight streams through the open window. Castiel’s phone buzzes only moments later, and he smiles when he reads the message.

It’s a picture of Dean and Gabriel, in which Gabriel is making a stupid face and Dean is wearing Castiel’s red sunglasses. The only thing the text says is ‘ _i hope u kno im keeping these_ ’.


	14. Epilogue

Dean nearly chokes on his eggnog as he bursts into laughter at Jo’s joke. It takes him a few minutes to compose himself, but when he does, he realizes that he’s happy. The past few months have been an odd adjustment in comparison to the insanity of the summer. Somehow, he’d managed to talk his father into hosting the annual Christmas party so Ellen didn’t have to. Naturally, the whole ragtag gang is shoved into their tiny living room now. 

Bobby and Ellen are bickering with John, Jody, and Donna about the proper rules for strip poker. They’re all tipsy, but John isn’t moody. He still drinks- that’s never going to stop, Dean thinks- but when he has people around him, he manages to control his temper and have fun. Sam is in the corner with Eileen and Kevin, having a heated discussion about some game they’ve been trying to make together. Benny, Garth, and Ash are a mess on the floor, having started watching the old Christmas VHS tapes that are still tucked beneath the Winchester’s old TV. Dean is off to the side with Jo, Charlie, Dorothy, and Aaron. He’d even managed to convince Gabriel Milton to show up with his boyfriend, and the two of them are tentatively participating in the conversation. 

Everything about this scene is perfect. And of course, none of it would have been possible if Castiel Novak hadn’t appeared in the Campbell barn back in May. If Dean hadn’t fallen for those deep blue eyes the moment he saw them, he wouldn’t have what he has right now. If he hadn’t dealt with Charlie excitedly trying to set him and Castiel up through the entire fourth of July party, if he hadn’t drawn Castiel into his group of friends, if he hadn’t opened up to the strange boy from California… everything is better now. The only thing that could improve on this situation is having Castiel around.

Dean extracts himself from the group carefully, so as not to draw attention to himself, and sets his eggnog on the kitchen counter as he passes through towards the stairs. At the top, he notices that his door is cracked slightly open, and he pauses at the sound of a familiar voice.

“… so incredibly proud of him. He cares so much for so many people, and he’s so selfless. Your son is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I only wish you could see how far he’s come. You know, he told me once that you used to say angels were watching over him. I’m no angel, but I promise I’m doing my best to watch over him. You don’t need to worry about him, Mrs. Winchester, he has a lot of people who love him. Including me. I promise he-”

Dean eases the door open. Castiel is sitting on the edge of his bed, legs drawn up to his chest and chin resting on his knees as he talks to the picture of Mary on Dean’s nightstand. He cuts off when he hears the door, but a brilliant smile crosses his face as he catches sight of who’s interrupting him. Dean’s heart skips a beat in his chest. He closes the door with a soft click and comes to sit beside Castiel on the bed.

“Hey, California. You’re missing the party.”

Castiel shakes his head and leans against Dean’s side. He doesn’t need an invitation and he knows it. Dean welcomes the contact by wrapping an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“I needed to take a moment away from everyone. I enjoy time with them, but…”

“They’re a lot to handle.”

“Yes. And… well, I thought it would be nice to talk with your mother for a while.”

“What did she say?”

“That she loves you, and that she’s proud of you. And that it was probably a bad idea to hang mistletoe in the bathroom doorway.”

Dean is laughing before he can stop himself, his eyes crinkled with mirth. He shakes his head and rubs his hand down Castiel’s arm to take ahold of his hand. The picture of Mary smiles up at them.

“She must like you, then, if she’s so talkative. It’s almost time for presents, though, and Jo will throw a royal fit if we’re late. You ready to head back down?”

Castiel shakes his head. “Not- not quite yet. There’s one thing that she said to me.”

“What’s that?”

Castiel takes a deep breath and turns to face Dean. Blue eyes meet green, and Dean’s entire world narrows to Castiel and Castiel alone. He’s not sure what’s about to happen, but the moment feels charged. Similar to June, and July, and the lightning strike, and so many other moments in the summer, but somehow different. Calmer. Less dramatic and more memorable.

“She told me I was an idiot for falling in love with a man who lives halfway across the country and then not telling him for months and months. I should have told him every time I had the chance. I should have told everyone. There’s no shame in who I am, and I don’t need blood family to tell me how much I’m worth. I have other people, better people, who care about me and love me for who I am, not who they think I should be. And I can accept that, now, and I feel like I can conquer the world. But… only if you’re by my side.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. “Cas, what-”

“I can’t deny it any longer, Dean. You- you told me I changed your whole world, but… you changed mine, too. And I- I’m…. I think I like you?”

A moment of silence passes between them, and then Dean is laughing and crying at the same time. He can’t control it. He feels giddy and a bit hysterical, but it doesn’t matter. He touches his forehead to Castiel’s and threads their fingers together. His free hand comes to rest on Castiel’s jaw, and he traces his thumb over Castiel’s cheekbone.

“You drive me crazy, you know that? I like you, too, California. Always have.”

Castiel splits into a smile and brings his other hand to Dean’s cheek, as if he’s a mirror, and then leans forward to bury his face in Dean’s shoulder. They wrap each other in a tight embrace and just sit there for a while, holding on. Finally, they pull apart and stand. They can both hear the party getting rowdy downstairs and know it’s time to return. Just as they reach the door, Castiel pauses. He glances over his shoulder at Mary’s picture, lit up by the desk lamp, and nods towards it.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Winchester.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat and squeezes Castiel’s hand, then whispers a “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

The two young men exit Dean’s bedroom together, fully intending to head back downstairs and join the party once again. Dean pauses at the top of the stairs and pulls Castiel close to him again, then brushes their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss. Castiel looks delightfully surprised by the action. His blue eyes slide closed and he stretches up on his toes to return the kiss. It doesn’t last long, since they’re both smiling, but it’s warm and soft and perfect. It feels like home.


End file.
